


Of Missing Eyes and Bleeding Hearts

by ElvenHeroine



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Dancing, Denial of Feelings, Devotion, Dreams and Nightmares, F/F, Female-Centric, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ghosts, Jealousy, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Loyalty, Mental Instability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Discovery, Self-Worth Issues, Separation Anxiety, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-10-21 10:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 28,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10683480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenHeroine/pseuds/ElvenHeroine
Summary: A series of shorts on the travels of a 'priest' and her half-elf, half-Draenei companion. Or: a blind woman annoys the snot out of her paladin protector.[ Mostly written for my enjoyment, based on an actual WoW character of my creation! PM me for my btag. Feel free to share the love with me. Updates weekly. ]





	1. "I overslept." "Fuck you."

“Give me a hand would you?”

Halla feels, rather than sees the impatient expression set over her companion’s hybrid features as she peers in her direction, the ledge above them too high for even Daneli to reach on her own. She pads over, her boots tapping softly over pressed dirt, and promptly offers her outstretched arms to the waiting woman. With her fingers braided together in the air, palms up, she imagines that she must look quite expectant.

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that? Remind me why we’re doing this again.”

She grunts as Daneli’s hooves dig into her palms briefly, pushing up as requested while the halfling in question rolls her eyes, struggling onto the ledge above. Whereas her armor had donned a respectable shine before their journey, it’s more or less stained copper at this point, with bits of foliage stuck here or there. Not that she seems to mind it much.

Halla straightens, brushing herself off for the umpteenth time, and extends her hand upwards.

“ _Because_ , Alterac needs our help, and we missed the last boat to Stormwind. Which, by the way, wasn’t my fault.”

“You’re the one who slept in!”

“I could never. I’m offended you’d even suggest such a thing - oof, take it easy on the biscuits, would you?”

She thwacks Daneli’s arm once she’s pulled to her feet above, blowing on her hand pitifully as the metal brings an ache to her fingers. For Daneli’s part, the halfling merely shakes her head, setting them on their way without further comment. Halla, however, has other plans.

“So much for the renowned tact of the paladin order.”

“In all my years, I have never met such a mouthy priest. Aren’t you supposed to be quiet and pious or something? Or at least… appropriate.”

“I didn’t force you to come with me,” Halla remarks as-a-matter-of-fact, nearly walking into a wayward branch, “in fact, I believe it was the other way around.”

“If not for my insistence, you’d probably walk right off a cliff. Honestly, I don’t know how you can be so clumsy. It probably has something to do with this,” Daneli tugs on the edge of the elf’s hood with a softer touch than the wind itself, but that doesn’t stop Halla from recoiling, tugging the garment further over her features with a grimace. As it stands, the cloth leaves only a sliver of her chin visible, and maybe her lips, if she were to look up.

Daneli takes it as her cue to back off. In the limited time they’ve traveled together, she’s come to learn that the hood is non-negotiable, but that doesn’t stop her from trying now and again.

“You can’t be any uglier than a sunburnt orc, Hal.”

“One look and you’d freeze right up like someone who looked at a Naga a bit too long. It’s there for your own good, you know,” she counters, her story different from the last time she’d told it, as has been the case for as long as Daneli has known her.

Daneli sighs and drops the subject, observing as the lush forestry surrounding Darkshore begins to taper off into gnarled branches and yellowed grass. She can’t fathom why anyone would voluntarily choose to live here.

Beside her, Halla grips the shaft of her crystal-tipped staff anxiously. The fel distorts her ‘sight’, making it difficult for the tendrils of magic that she expels from her body to define the landscape for her unseeing eyes. This is exactly why she’d wanted to reject Daneli’s offer in the first place. Among other things. If the obnoxious paladin hadn’t slept in, she’d be resting in a cushy cabin, not tracking dirt all over herself.

If Daneli notices her reservations, she chooses not to comment on it, turning the familiar weight of her shield over in her hands instead.

⧪

The only sound in the dying forest is the crunch of leaves as they come to a stop near the road a ways away from Emerald Sanctuary. Daneli wanders off to secure the perimeter while Halla stays behind, tasked with finding kindling. Ordinarily, the task wouldn’t have posed much of a challenge, but in this case..

One: straining to see is _tiring_. Two: her body aches from the day long travel, and having to stoop down for twigs doesn't soothe her screaming legs. Three: she doesn't have a good third reason, but maybe if Daneli hadn't insisted on stopping for the night, they could've made it to a rest stop but nooo--

She jumps, dropping half of her pile of twigs as a hand squeezes her shoulder. Her own catches the intruder’s wrist, her middle twisting as if expecting an invisible blade. If this is how her journey ends, she thinks, before it's even begun - maybe she’s brought it upon herself. As it were, her caution is unneeded.

After a tense few seconds, she releases Daneli’s wrist with a heavy sigh. The other woman had made a startled noise, and Halla senses that she’s being blinked at, though she can't tell whether it's incredulous or unsettled. She disregards her racing heart and sets about gathering the fallen twigs, hearing the paladin shift behind herself.

“The area looks clear. Here, let me help-”

“No need,” Halla straightens, walking past her primly whilst hiding a secretive smile beneath her hood, “don’t just stand there catching flies, come on.”

“Ah-- yeah. I’ll take first watch once we set everything up.”

Another goddess forsaken problem. Though she appreciates Daneli volunteering for the task, perhaps to make amends for startling her a few moments ago.

“Let me put wards up instead. No use in being at half-strength tomorrow if we can avoid it.”

“No way,” Daneli deadpans, stopping to regard her with crossed arms. Halla strongly suspects a raised brow. “No offense, but I just met you. I’m gonna need a little more than ‘trust me, I’m a decent priestess’ to sleep soundly in this Light forsaken place.”

“I haven’t given you reason to doubt me either! Just -- a little trust Daneli… please,” she adds begrudgingly.

The paladin is silent for an uncomfortable length of time, the following sigh rivaling the one Halla had given her, “If I’m assaulted by demons while I’m trying to sleep, you’re banned from the biscuit bag for the rest of the trip.”

“Fair enough,” she concedes, the pair continuing their short walk back to camp, “you know, you’re not so bad, for a paladin.”

Daneli groans.

“You’re insufferable.”


	2. "Do you ever stop eating?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Halla is hungry enough to eat a cow, and Daneli likes to watch her suffer. Just a little bit.

“Do you ever stop eating?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Halla counters over a mouthful of biscuit, not perturbed in the slightest by the paladin’s inquiry. In reality, the reason she eats so much is to fuel her ‘sight,’ but Daneli doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m cutting you off.”

“Yeah, okay. Wait - you’re not serious are you?”

Her ears perk in alarm, and Daneli can only imagine that the betrayal on Halla’s face is worth every second of whining she’s about to endure. 

“I have a condition! Besides, those biscuits of yours are very high in nutritional content. Look, I’m too skinny as it is!”

She flexes her bicep as if trying to prove her point, but really, the elven woman is more muscular in actuality than a spellcaster has any business being. Daneli fixes her with an unimpressed stare.

“What’s your condition called, greedy-priestitis? These are kind of expensive, you know.”

“But what if we run into a pack of - of giants? How am I supposed to protect you on an empty stomach?”

“....Giants. In Ashenvale. Right. I think it’s the other way around, actually. Unless you want to lug forty pounds of armor around instead?”

“You’re the worst.”

⧪

“I’m hungry.”

“Hi, hungry, I’m Daneli.”

“I hate you,” Halla groans, rubbing a hand over her stomach as she feels it calling out for the pouch swinging tantilizingly at Daneli’s hip. In her opinion, the paladin is having way too much fun at her expense. But maybe she shouldn’t have been so rude?

Bah. 

Either way, her sight is taking its toll on her now, reduced to the immediate area while she finds something to eat. It’s been hours, and she’s already burnt through all of the bits of jerky she’d stashed away in her own belt.

“Daneli.”

“Yes, hungry?”

“Stop it,” she swats at the halfling irately, though more gently than the first time she’d tried it - she’s learned her lesson. Purple fingers are not worth a moment’s satisfaction. “I’ll pay for the next batch, okay?”

“Mmm. I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll get the fancy ones!”

The silence tells her that her companion is either, very, very amused or unconvinced. Perhaps both. Just as she’s about to make another offer, on the verge of just tackling the stubborn woman, she relents, tossing the pouch in her direction. By some miracle, Halla manages to catch it before it hits the ground, promptly ripping into it to nibble on her ‘hard-earned’ spoils. All at once, she seems revitalized, more content than she should be over a bag of snacks.

“Dinner’s on you tonight.”

“Aye aye ma’am.”

“Don’t call me that,” and she could’ve sworn that if she didn’t know better, she would say that Daneli sounds flustered, “honestly, I thought that feeding you would give me some peace for once.”

“You’re stuck with me, unfortuately. Too easy,” she teases, bumping shoulders with Daneli. 

“I think you’re the one that never shuts up, actually.”

“You like it.”

“I most definitely do not.”

And as they trot down the path to Raynewood Retreat, shoulder to shoulder, Hal’lasan can’t help but think that maybe playing nice with the paladin once in a while isn’t so bad.


	3. "Are you alright?" "No, I'm really, really not."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Halla and Daneli run into an enemy, and someone's secrets get outed. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Warning - PTSD episode up ahead, go ahead and skip to the end notes for a summary if you're uncomfortable with anything of that nature. Thanks! ]

“Halla!”

She can’t breathe. Her breath is trapped in her chest and it occurs to her that maybe she’s drowning in the darkness behind her eyes, the taste of fire on her tongue. Above the ringing of her ears she can make out the sound of a muffled scuffle - and it’s, it’s Daneli calling out for her but she can’t...

Hal’lasan struggles to wheeze out a gasp as a heavy thud sounds to her left, scrambling to distance herself from the twitching figure until they’re silenced by the trill of magic, and she can’t tell who it is - she just knows she’s completely, indubitably  _ fucked _ . 

At once, pair of plated hands clasp onto her shoulders and she finds her strength at last, jerking against their touch violently. She tries in vain to reach for her font of power only to find it sealed, leaving her defenseless, and blind against her attacker.

Truly, hopelessly, blind.

“Hal-”

“No! Let me- let go of me! Dani! Da-”

“Stop - ack, stop fighting me! Halla! Hal’lasan, it’s me! Light, come on,” the paladin growls under her breath, doing her best to slam the priestess’s shoulders against the ground as gently as she can, her stomach lurching sickly when Halla goes slack in her hold. 

“Oh, Light. No, no, no, come on. Halla? Come on, say something!”

She stirs, and though the halfling can’t see her face, she sighs in relief. 

“Thank the Light, you had me worried there for a second!”

“Kamila?”

Daneli doesn’t expect the priestess to melt into her arms in with a heartwrenching moan just a moment later, reaching up with shaking hands to cup her cheeks with almost painful tenderness.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do it. It was all my fault, I can fix it - please don’t hate me, please, please,” her hands travel to the paladin’s front, patting and grasping at everything and nothing at once, scaring the hell out of Daneli. “What- what should I do? How do I… Kamila I can’t see. I can’t see, Kamila help me!” And Hal’lasan begins shaking the halfling weakly as if trying to extract answers from her one handedly, the other, tearing at the flesh beneath her hood in apparent agony.

Horrified, Daneli takes hold of her wrists, hushing her softly, “Halla, listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice. I’m here - you’re safe, it’s over.”

“It hurts,” she whimpers, “my hands, they’re…they’re covered in your...” Without warning, she turns her head to the side, expelling bile with ragged breaths while Daneli watches helplessly, having released her once the heaving started. Panicking, she peels back Hal’lasan’s hood, taking hold of her long braid of teal hair. 

It’s only when the retching stops that she places a hesitant hand back on the woman’s shoulder, shifting her gently so as to get her away from the foul puddle. Daneli nearly drops her when she sees Halla’s face. If it could be called that.

Scratches aside, the area above the bridge of her nose is a mottled blue-grey, very obviously the result of her coming-of-age tattoos melting into her flesh, leaving her ghastly and disfigured. Not even her eyes were spared, dulled silver patched and dotted with a more brilliant amethyst, unseeing through her half-lidded state. What’s more is that the blast scars look no older than when the priestess had received them, layers of luminescent cracks running through them as if a trail, and it can only make her think of one thing. But what on Azeroth could compel Hal’lasan to mess with ley lines?

She doesn’t mean to say it aloud, but it comes out anyway, breathless.

“Halla… what did you do?”

In the time that it took her to gawk, the priestess seems to have recovered from her episode, appearing exhausted, and humiliated. Whereas before, her hands had reached for Daneli, now they shy away in defense of her bare face, scrambling to pull her hood back into place.

“Don’t look at me, please. I’m..,” she sighs, swallowing the bitter taste of bile before she continues, “you weren’t supposed to see that.”

“What  _ was _ that?”

“What part?” she snaps, dryly.

“Everything! One moment you were down and the next you were… what.. What happened to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she grouses, shrugging herself away from Daneli’s hold and onto her feet, wanting to cry again in relief. With her font unlocked now that the effects of the enemy paladin’s smite have passed, she can see again. Well, what she’s come to recognize as sight, anyway. 

Daneli follows suit, her worry masquerading as anger, “You can’t just expect me to see that and say ‘oh yes, Hal’lasan, I will forget everything and carry on as usual! What good weather we’re having!’”

“I wish you would!”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re blind? Naaru, this could’ve all been avoided. I would’ve watched you more carefully, would’ve been able to protect you-”

“Don’t!” she rounds on the paladin, grabbing her by her chest-plate to yank her down to face level, something she never thought she’d do out of respect, but she couldn’t care less in her incensed state. “Don’t you baby me. If he hadn’t smited me, his ass would’ve been  _ mine _ !”

And if she wasn’t already beside herself with anger, Daneli’s refusal to match her would have done it, her calm exterior the cherry on the cake to her wounded pride. “And your ass would have been dead if I weren’t here.”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you!”

“It was my mistake. I’ll escort you to Stormwind and put you on the boat back to Darnassus, I promise you. Please cooperate with me in the mean time.”

If Hal’lasan was in her right mind, she might’ve been able to recognize Daneli’s defeated tone, her guilty expression. But as it stands, she merely releases the paladin, turning heel to continue their journey, ignoring the twinge of sorrow in her gut.

For the first time since leaving Darnassus, she thinks that yes, traveling with Daneli is that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Basically: total blindness and Daneli's attempt at helping triggers Hal'lasan, who then experiences visions of someone by the name of 'Kamila.' Daneli finally gets to see what's under her hood, which is the top half of Halla's horribly burn-disfigured, magic amalgamated face. A screaming match ensues, and Daneli promises to take her back to Darnassus once they reach Stormwind, feeling like she's at fault for everything. Meanwhile, Hal'lasan feels bad man™. ]


	4. "Where do you think you're going?" "Shit."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hal'lasan tries to leave, but Daneli is prepared. Or: they fight, they make up, a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Shit.”

After everything, Hal’lasan should’ve expected Daneli to keep watch, despite the wards she’d put down upon setting camp. Still, she can’t help but feel disappointed. The priestess supposes that she wanted to believe that Daneli would still have some semblance of trust in her. What a hypocrite. 

She half-expects Daneli to stride over and collect her -  _ ‘I dare you to try’ _ \- admittedly a bit paranoid, but to her surprise the paladin does the exact opposite. From her resting post against the base of a tree, she watches the apprehensive priestess with a single eye, the other shut as if suspended in slumber. Insofar as Hal’lasan can tell, she intends to make no move against her. This doesn’t soothe her.

“You’re leaving.” Although more of a statement than an inquiry, it’s marked with a disheartened smile, which Daneli feels a twinge of guilt over, considering she’s grateful that Hal’lasan can’t see it after all.

“...Yeah.” And she doesn’t know why there’s hesitation in it, hands flexing and unflexing anxiously at her sides.

“Halla. Am I that bad? That you can’t wait a few more days to be away from me?”

She swears that she’s never heard Daneli so serious. 

“It’s not… like that.”

“Isn’t it? I thought you made that very clear, earlier.”

She flinches. This isn’t how she meant for her exit to unravel, at  _ all _ . “You know I didn’t mean any of that. I was - I was blinded by anger, is all. I just have to go, alright?” 

“Don’t run away from me like this,” she inhales a greedy gulp of air, nostrils flairing as she exhales, “from where I’m sitting, you have to know what this looks like. Listen, Halla… you’re not my prisoner. If you’ve made up your mind, I won’t stop you. I guess I… I just wanted to know why.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” she folds downwards when the nerves weaken her legs, sitting atop her them with her rucksack held between her arms as a grounding force. The nagging feeling from earlier returns in full force, making her feel nauseated, “How could you want me to stay when I nearly got you killed? I  _ knew  _ that you would see me differently once you found out. Daneli, I am  _ mortified _ . I can’t stay, not knowing that you’ll look at me like a… like a  _ child _ .”

For her part, the paladin shakes her head, offering a weak laugh - which in hindsight, she hopes isn’t misinterpreted, “Still not uglier than a sunburnt orc,” pausing to brush an anxious hand over her nose, she clears her throat, “I was wrong, to react the way I did. It was instinct. Please understand, my training mandates that I do my upmost to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Withholding something so important to your safety... it made me panic, I guess. I didn’t want to fail. And I am sorry for that.”

Halla could cry. Of all the ways she invisioned this night going, this was definitely not one of them. 

“I was wrong too,” she blurts out, straightening from her slouched position, arms tightening around the rucksack, “you didn’t deserve any of this. I can’t say that I wouldn’t do it again, but I… I’m sorry as well.”

Daneli frowns, recognizing the elven women’s fanged teeth working over her lips in the dim light, as if troubled by yet another matter, “And yet you’re not convinced.”

“I need your word. Please don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. I can barely handle having you know it as it is. And… please. Treat me the same as anyone else. I don’t want anything special, just be-”

“A friend. I got it,” the paladin cuts in, saving Hal’lasan from rambling her way into a hole. “You have my word, as long as I have yours.” 

Her ears twitch. What could the halfling possibly want from her? “What is it?”

“Promise me that you won’t run off before I wake.”

“What if I need to pee?”

She snorts, “That doesn’t count. It’s not a big thing that I’m asking of you.”

“...Alright. You have my word, somehow. Are you actually going to sleep now?”

Daneli wants to say that she’s still too restless to settle down - Halla feels the same, but she nods nonetheless. Receiving one in turn, she follows with both eyes as the priestess moves back to her previous spot, enveloping herself in a woven blanket, her rucksack acting as a pillow. 

In the silence that follows, she shifts, trying to get comfortable in her armor, but there’s only so much she can do without shedding it entirely. Still, she doesn’t mind it overly much, her duty at the forefront of her mind. 

“Goodnight, Daneli.”

“What? No ‘Dani’? It was cute,” she doesn’t know if it’s appropriate to make a joke yet, but being as tentative as these things are, she’d prefer to end the night with a smile on her companion’s face.

Hal’lasan does not disappoint, groaning as she buries her face deeper into the lining of her hood, tossing the corner of her blanket over it for good measure. From the flustered bundle of cloth comes a muffled, “No more. You’re too much for me,” prompting a snicker from her. It’s a nice turn of events, to see Halla flustered for once.

She hasn’t quite processed the happenings of the day, not fully. But she can’t help but feel hopeful, despite being left with more questions than answers. She’ll tell her when she’s ready, Daneli is sure of it.

“Goodnight, Halla.”


	5. "Hey Daneli, what do you look like?" "C'mere and find out."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Halla breaks the ice, and Daneli gets more than she bargained for. Or: friends act like more than just friends. Just a little bit.

“Hey Daneli, what do you look like? I’ve been wondering ever since we left Darnassus.”

“What does it sound like? Actually, I’m a dwarf that’s been masquerading as a draenei this whole time. Consider yourself fooled.”

“Be serious!” Halla laughs out, giving her a half-hearted shove as she’s wont to do these days. Daneli doesn’t know where she picked it up, but as much as she complains about it, it seems the habit has stuck. Oh well. Seeing as they’ve stopped for a meal break, Halla seems to have found it an opportune time to badger her with questions. “It’s only fair. I doubt you’re hiding anything other than an embarrassing birthmark, or something.”

The paladin considers her in silence before shaking her head with an amused exhale, deciding to humor her request for the time being. What’s the harm in it? “C’mere and find out, then.”

If Halla is taken aback, she doesn’t linger on it for long, obliging the woman’s request. Not one to make assumptions, she lofts a brow, a quip quick on her tongue, “What? Did you want to whisper the color of your skin into my ear?”

“Not exactly,” Daneli starts, plucking Halla’s hand from her lap with surprising gentleness, ignoring the way she stiffens to set her fingertips atop her chin lightly, “but it’s kind of light the color of the sky at dusk, if you remember what that looks like. Go ahead.”

The paladin relaxes her features with a grounding sigh, letting her lids fall shut while her hands fold patiently on her lap, waiting for Halla to overcome the shock.

“Oh,” she starts dumbly, daring not move her fingers while she catches her tongue, her next statement sounding distinctly accusatory, “Ever since you-know-what I feel like you’ve been out to embarrass me every chance you get.”

Daneli doesn’t bother to dispel the accusation, the corner of her lips twitching near Halla’s fingertips. 

“What kind of paladin are you?” she grumbles to herself, mirroring their first day together while she gathers the courage to set about her task.  With newfound resolve, she slides her fingertips along the strong curve of Daneli’s jaw, tentative, before ascending feather-light to the sharp rise of her cheekbone. Her palm ghosts above the entirety of her cheek, and Halla can feel the heat radiating from her companion’s skin, warming her own. Bravely, her free hand joins on the other side of Daneli’s face, the priestess captivated by the sharp curve of the woman’s ear, and the fine hair framing it.

Yet, she feels a frown creasing her brow, finding a missing piece.

“What happened to the-”

“To the other ones?” Daneli finishes, watching her wrist before it ventures further, seeming embarrassed by her lone, unadorned spur. “I was only born with one. My father’s

looks shining through, there.”

“Your fa- oh.  _ Oh _ . I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t think it was all that important. Does it bother you?”

And it’s a tense moment for them both, Daneli’s tone casual, but Hal’lasan knows better than that, even if the paladin’s grip hadn’t inadvertently tightened on her captive wrist. In the end, she surprises Daneli yet again with an easy laugh, choosing to ignore the way her muscles slacken under her other hand. 

“Puts you one up on me. At least you know who your father is. What’s the other half?”

“Night elf,” she answers belatedly, this being her turn to be bewildered.

“How are you this short with freakishly tall parents?”

“H-hey! I’m taller than you, at least!”

“I could be half-midget for all I know. What’s your excuse?” she smirks.

“That’s very derogatory towards our allies,” Daneli frowns, receiving a soft snort in turn. 

“I was trying to make a joke.”

“You’re going to get yourself stabbed in a bar for that one of these days.”

“Good thing I don’t frequent bars, then.” she retorts dryly. 

“You’re impossible.”

“Isn’t this weird for you?” she nods towards Daneli’s face, wishing she could gesture with her eyes, but alas, it is what it is.

“Unless all you wanted to know was: tall, blue, and white hair, I thought this would be the best way for you. By all means, if you don’t like it, I’m not holding a sword to your throat.” 

“I never said that.” 

In truth, it’s been such a long time since she’s actually touched anyone in earnest, always afraid of when they’d inevitably try to reciprocate. Yet here Daneli is, still as stone as she resumes her explorations, leaving her previously captive hand lingering near the paladin’s jaw while the other finds her crest.

“Were you born with this?” she inquires softly, feeling her fingertips tingle in response to the power dormant there.

“We all are. I wasn’t sure that I would receive one, given the circumstances, but there it is. It’s the Naaru’s blessing.”

“Mm,” she hums absentmindedly, following the path upwards to Daneli’s ram-like horns, their texture rough, and ribbed. It proves a pleasant contrast to the smoothness of her skin, prompting her to pause and consider how exactly she got herself into this situation. Halla moves on before she can get herself too flustered, descending the paladin’s forehead to reach her nose, amused once she finds that it’s been broken at least once.

“Schoolyard fight?”

“Hah, hardly. But we can go with that for now.” 

“Mm.”

And when she brushes over the fullness of Daneli’s lips, she feels the paladin’s  breath stutter beneath her fingertips, unaware of how close they’d gotten. She’s grateful for the hood hiding the heat rising to her cheeks, but her companion has no such protection, a flustered smile forming before she can stop it. The woman brushes Halla’s hand off to the side nonchalantly, shaking her head free of the other gently. She follows it up with a stretch, trying her best to appear as casual as possible. Halla bites back a laugh. 

“That’s enough of that. I think you’ve had enough fun molesting my face. We should head out.”

“Hey! You offered. In any case, that’s fine by me. I got you back, twice-fold.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.”

I think you’re beautiful, she wants to say. The words die on her tongue as they pack lunch up and return to the path, but she decides that it’s for the best. She’s grateful for the company, nothing more, nothing less.

“Thank you, Daneli.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Was that Halla, or Daneli at the end there? Who knows??? ]


	6. "You have a fever." "We can still keep going."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daneli gets sick, and Ha'lasan takes the chance to baby her. Or: Halla wears Daneli down, and ambushes her with cuddles.

“Let’s stop right ahead here.”

“This is the third time we’ve stopped in the past two hours,” Halla lofts a brow, finding Daneli’s odd behavior more suspect than annoying, really. 

“I’m thirsty,” she defends indignantly, kneeling before the stream they’d happened upon to quench her parched throat with greedy gulps, her waterskin following as an afterthought. Halla thinks it’s a bit unnecessary for her to dip her entire head in, but any remark she might’ve had is cut off with a prompt, “besides, it’s more exhausting to carry all this than to prance around in leather.”

“Who’s fault is that? I’m not forcing you to fry under all that plate. As if it’s even all that hot beneath the treetops. Hold still, would you?” The elven woman doesn’t wait for her response before folding at her side, touching the back of her hand to the halfling’s forehead. “Ah, I thought you were being more of an ass than usual. You’re running a fever.”

Daneli grumbles under her breath, shrugging her forehead out of Halla’s reach. She latches her waterskin back onto the rope secured around her waist, dusting herself off while fixing Halla with an exasperated expression. Or at least, insofar as the priestess can tell.

“We can still keep going.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What we’ll gain in distance, we’ll lose in time tomorrow when you’re half-dead on the ground.”

Daneli rolls her eyes, “It’s just a headache, Halla. If you keep nagging me, I’ll start to think that you actually care.”

“In your dreams. I just don’t want to have to explain to your family why you got mauled by a bear or something in a fever-induced delirium.”

“You wouldn’t help me?” 

“Maybe. You’ve been preeeetty mean to me today.”

“And I’m the ridiculous one.”

“Yes, you are. Strip.”

“At least take me out on a date first.”

“Be serious,” she huffs impatiently, crossing her arms, “I think your illness is progressing faster than I anticipated, if that’s where your line of thought is heading. We should cool you off before it gets worse.”

“I said I’m fine,” Daneli snaps irately, rubbing her forehead as if it’d make the sharp pulsing give way. She turns brusquely, and without waiting for her companion starts making her way back to the path, “Come on, we’re losing daylight.”

Halla bites her tongue, following behind the agitated paladin silently. She bides her time with dull satisfaction every time they stop, noting how Daneli pointedly tries to avoid looking in her direction. By the fifth stop she’s flush-faced and nauseous, both of which the priestess would have missed if not for how sluggish she’s become, her very breath coming with some difficulty.

And that’s when Halla puts her foot down, ignoring her companion’s weak protests in favor of navigating the woman to the rest over a soft patch of nearby grass perpendicular to a shade-giving tree.

“Why didn’t you just listen to me?”

“When do you ever listen to me?”

“Point taken. In this case, though, I think you’re just being overly stubborn.”

“You can fix me up, right?”

That’s not in my skill set, she wants to say, but settles instead for, “That’s not how that works. Not that I would. That would defeat the purpose.”

“Purpose being?”

“Listen to the priestess when she tells you that you’re about to keel over.”

“Halla,” she grunts, a note of pleading bleeding into it as she watches the woman turn her back and fade from view blearily. 

_ “Treat me the same as anyone else.” _

She sighs, jerking her head from one side to another to dispel the softness of Halla’s voice that night regardless of how her headache gripes at her for it. The woman is absolutely insufferable. Even still, she can’t help but worry when the priestess is out of her sight like this, doubting that she could take on something as trivial as a ravenous squirrel in her current condition. What use is she if not as a shield? The pinpricks of worry gnaw at her gut incessantly until Halla returns, after how long, she can’t tell. She thinks her relief is a bit ridiculous, really, but blames her code of honor for her steadfast devotion to Halla’s safety. Even if they've only just met. It's not such a bad thing, is it? 

“Armor off, please. I’ll help you if you can’t manage it yourself.”

“I can do it myself,” Daneli insists, cheeks burning with embarrassment when she fumbles with the latches, her arms sore and heavy. Halla disregards the paladin’s pride to lend her nimble hands, and Daneli is grateful that rather than belittling her, all the priestess asks for is gentle instruction. Before she can protest it, Daneli’s unarmored form is cocooned within Hal’lasan’s indigo blanket, set back on the bed of grass below. The difference in comfort is substantial. 

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to try something.”

Still, Daneli does as she’s asked, a small frown knitting between her brows as Hal’lasan shifts her head, scooting her legs beneath it so as to act as a pillow, her back supported by the nearby tree. “What are you-”

“Shh.”

And Halla’s fingertips take to the base of her temples as if beckoned, gentle, but firm as they rub over the paladin’s heated flesh. She can’t help but give a muffled sound of appreciation tempered by surprise from beneath her borrowed blanket, pondering her incredible luck. It doesn’t last long, the priestess’s stifled giggling prompting her to squeeze her eyelids together tightly, suddenly wishing that she was allowed to watch the mirth unfold across her face. 

“When was the last time you received a massage?”

“I don’t know,” Daneli sighs contently, deciding after a moment’s hesitation that being ill is good enough an excuse to suspend any reservations she might have about enjoying Halla’s touch. She presses back into those blessedly cool fingers, murmuring, “maybe I was six, or seven.”

Halla’s only response is a rhythm less hum, her fingers ascending to the paladin’s scalp after some time. They thread through her white tresses, caressing the base of her horns before traversing to the sides of Daneli’s head, rubbing the stress from it deftly . For her part, Daneli has all but melted into a puddle on her lap, and unaware of how thoroughly her companion is enjoying her dopey expression. 

“Don't get used to it,” Halla remarks lightly, her touch shifting likewise, more tender now along the sides of her face rather than purely therapeutic. The paladin certainly isn't complaining, 

“Can I open my eyes now?”

And her hands stutter, Daneli’s inquiry catching her off guard.

“Why?”

She hesitates, deciding on the truth,“I’d like to see you.”

“But…  _ why?”  _ She's perplexed, the concept that Daneli might want to see her  _ just because  _ not a thought process that she can readily understand. The paladin splutters, squirming beneath the blanket as if trying to explain herself with flailing hands. Though she can’t see it, the priestess finds it rather cute, deciding to withhold any snark in favor of preserving the moment a little longer.

Ultimately, Hal’lasan laughs, shaking her head before folding her palms over Daneli’s eyes, a distracted smile curving her lips. “Rest now, Dani. You can ask me for weird things later when you're healthy enough to be properly embarrassed.” 

The paladin takes the out provided without further prompting, shifting so as to hide her face against Halla’s stomach. For her part, Hal’lasan is content to let her be, a pleasant warmth stirring at the base of her gut.

“Honestly. How could I not care when you do things like that?” 

And she swears that she can hear a soft ‘thank you’ over the sound of the cicadas surrounding them. How could she be mean to a sick woman? That’s all this is. Yes, there’s nothing more to it.

Nothing more, nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ That was so sweet, my teeth are rotting. Thanks for the love, mystery guests! I appreciate the kudos. ]


	7. "I had a nightmare about you and wanted to make sure you were alright."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hal'lasan has a nightmare, and Daneli makes the most of it. Or: just gals being pals, with a splash of self loathing.

There always comes a point in which she knows that she’s dreaming. Even as the Borean chill nips at her skin, she’s acutely aware of her presence within the past version of herself, watching as her hands set runes over the snow, mindless of their consequence. Yet, the knowledge doesn’t spare her the inevitable dread that comes with Kamila’s soft footfalls, knowing from memory alone that she comes bearing her beloved blanket. And when she turns to shoot a grin over her shoulder, the memory of her mentor in her periphery, Halla isn’t so sure that she’s dreaming anymore. It always starts this way.

“Hallabell,” the enchantress greets warmly, draping the indigo fabric over her chilled back, “what discoveries have you for me today?”

“I’m on the verge of something amazing,” Halla chatters excitedly, gesturing to the pulsing runes surrounding the frame of an abandoned ley energy conductor, “just stand back and watch, this’ll blow you away.”

Kamila’s green-tinted lips upturn in a smirk and she crosses her arms, patient.

Hal’lasan takes her silence as an encouragement, hurriedly finishing the last of her preparations to take position at the mouth of the arc. Brandishing a moonstone-tipped staff in her hands, she breathes deeply, the trill of magic resonating deeply within herself before expanding outwards, pooled into her focus crystal. Tendrils of it reach to her containment runes, erecting a translucent bubble before dancing over the arc itself, the beginnings of dormant ley energy beginning to intermingle with her own. Another spark of excitement ignites within her, the woman murmuring softly now under her breath as a soft blue-like static begins surrounding the arc, a tense crackle of energies building in the distance between them. 

She feels Kamila watching intently, hopefully even impressed by the aurora-like appearance of the portal forming within the maw of the ley-arc. Yet, in the moment that it takes for her to ponder her mentor’s thoughts, the ley energy swells, and expands, the previously harmless crackling of it now a stinging lash over her hands. She loses focus completely, and it’s all the portal needs to become tempestuous, Hal’lasan panicked when she looks back to Kamila. The woman is already in action, weaving herself a path through her apprentice’s wards at the cost of a small array of burns, snatching the stave from Halla’s hands to wield it in her own.

“What’s happening?!”

“Stand back! I’ll handle this!”

“I can still fix it!” 

It feels like the air is being sucked out of their little bubble, the storm consuming the surrounding snow with worrying speed. Yet Halla remains. Cursing her student’s stubborn nature, Kamila splits her own focus, half set on containing the impending disaster while the other half tries to push Hal’lasan back into safety at the cost of more searing flesh.

“Get back! For once, do as you’re told!”

“We can save this!”

And Kamila knows that when Hal’lasan’s energy reenters the maelstrom, it is too late to salvage the inevitable. So she does the only thing that she can think to do, abandoning her efforts to shield her young apprentice with her body, the brunt of the blast sending them flying across the snow.

But this time, when she crawls towards her fallen body, blinded and in agony, Hal’lasan finds hooves rather than padded boots, and slick horns instead of elongated ears. This time, Daneli’s hands wrap around her slender neck instead of Kamila’s, choking the life from her while she tries something - anything to get her off, failing to find purchase on the falling chunks of her charred flesh. This time, it’s the paladin cursing her name, more vindictive than she could’ve ever imagined while Halla struggles beneath her, gasping that she’s sorry - that she hadn’t meant for this to happen. This time, it’s enough to jolt her to reality, her heart constricting painfully in her chest for reasons she can’t name.

And when she finally wakes, it’s heaving, clutching at her throat as though it might restore the flow of air to her starved lungs.

“Dani-,” she practically trips out of bed as she tears across the inn room to Daneli’s sleeping form, the elven woman pressing her ear to the swell of the paladin’s chest. She struggles to listen over her own ragged breathing, clinging to the woman’s figure. She could almost cry upon finding everything in its rightful place, the only sign of distress in Daneli being her sleepy protests. One hand comes to rest over Hal’lasan’s back confusedly. 

After gathering her bearings, she’s up in an instant, giving the room a bleary visual sweep as she shields the “priestess’s” form, thinking that they must be under attack for Halla to be so ruffled. A frown creases her brow when she finds nothing, turning her attention to the flustering woman hanging half off her bed, her sleeping mask askew. 

“Are you alright? What’s happening?”

“I...I had a nightmare about you and wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

That has her choking on a yawn, thinking it must be a joke until Halla remains in mortified silence for a good minute. 

“Well, this isn’t exactly what I imagined when I thought about you crawling into my bed in the middle of the night.”

“Wh-what?”

“Joking. Ahh. Well, there’s room for two,” she scoots, patting the free space in a somewhat sheepish manner. That joke might’ve been a bit much, even for her. Though it seems to do the trick, dispelling Halla’s nightmare from her mind in her confusion. 

“I’m not a child-”

She holds her hand up, her objective to soothe the woman, not the opposite. It’s close enough to the priestess’s face that she can feel the air shift between them. “I’m just being a friend. You don’t have to. I just don’t want to deal with your grumpy ass tomorrow.”

Ordinarily, Daneli might’ve triggered a snarky response from her companion. This time, however, she complies quietly, fetching her indigo blanket before settling herself in the space provided by the paladin. Said paladin watches her back with quiet concern, though she knows better than to try and comfort her. It usually doesn't go well. 

“I’m doing this for you, not any other reason.” 

“Uh-huh,” Daneli quirks a brow, hiding a private smile, “how could I ever sleep again without having you here? It makes my job so much easier.” 

“That's right. You’re the one that gets antsy if I’m too far away.” 

“Yes,” the paladin struggles not to laugh, “rest well, no spec of dust will go unnoticed by my watchful eye.”

“Right,” Halla buries her face in the blanket, knowing full well what Daneli is doing. “Have fun.” 

“I will.” 

“Daneli?”

“What is it, Halla?”

“.... Ahh. Nothing.”

Why does she do this? Halla is nothing if not difficult to work with.  _ She doesn't listen _ , she's been told this time and time again. Yet the paladin puts up with her anyway. And rather than feel warmed by it, Hal’lasan is merely troubled. In the silence, her mind is left to consider the parallels between Kamila and Daneli. 

She is not worthy of either. 


	8. "Trust me." And she does.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daneli gets more than she bargained for when taking Halla out for a swim. Or: it's wet, and a bit one-sided.

The marketplace is full to bursting, and Hal’lasan swears she’s never been so uncomfortable. Where Daneli’s aura is steadfast, and warm, everyone else’s bleeds together like an unpleasant mirage, threatening to induce a headache. Halla groans quietly, bundling herself more closely to her companion’s back in an attempt to keep from touching the other market goers, but she can only do so much without physically tucking herself into Daneli’s arms. 

No way in hell is she ever going to do that. (She tries not to remember the...situation a few nights prior.)

Meanwhile, the paladin shoots a sidelong glance over her shoulder, lofting an amused brow towards her disgruntled companion, “I take it you’re not a fan of crowds.”

“I’m going to die here,” she deadpans, earning a smirk from the other, who deliberately heckles the vendor for longer than necessary before purchasing her snacks just for the sake of watching Halla squirm.

Whatever Daneli says, Hal’lasan is convinced that she’s actually a serial sadist in disguise, using her paladin’s crest to get around devoid of suspicion. She says as much.

“I don’t know where you come up with this stuff,” Daneli rolls her eyes, silencing her grumbling with a slice of the orange she’d just purchased, “though, I am thinking that I should bring you around town more often. At least it gives me less of  headache than listening to you snip at me on the road.”

“I’d sooner throw myself off a bridge for the sole purpose of making you dive after me.”

“We’d both drown, in that case.”

“So be it.”

Dani snorts, “As if you couldn’t take care of yourself.”

“Well, I can’t swim. So unless you want to watch me drown…”

“Halla.”

“What?”

“All this time? Are you kidding me? Please tell me you were born inland, at least.”

“Auberdine, actually.”

“That’s even worse! I’d be terrified to get on a boat if I were you. I’m telling you, it’s a good thing we missed the first one. You’re welcome.”

Halla laughs, and it’s like chimes to her ears, “Yeah, right. I’m having a hard time imagining you of all people, frolicking around in a lake.”

She huffs, “I can, quite well thank you very much. But since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can teach you.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Come on!” Daneli takes her by the hand, her armored presence clearing a path for them as she drags the protesting priestess along. Halla hides a private smile, shaking her head dramatically, but follows for the sake of appeasing the halfling. She’s been particularly tolerable these past few days, anyway.

⧪

The logistics of actually finding a body of water private enough that Hal’lasan might actually be willing to shed her hood are unexpectedly daunting. That doesn’t stop Daneli from trying, though.

“What about this one?”

“No way. We’re a stone’s throw from town. Any buffoon could just come waltzing through.”

“We’re an hour from town. Walking really, really fast.”

“Why didn’t we think to get horses?”

“Stop trying to change the subject. Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed?”

“Of course not!”

“Then what are you afraid of?” And even if Hal’lasan can’t see it, she can feel the intensity of Daneli’s gaze. There’s no getting out of this one.

“Nothing, I just…,” she licks her parched lips, wishing she had bogblossom tea to calm her nerves, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I’m not here to judge you, Halla. This is supposed to be fun.”

“Right. Don’t gawk for too long,” she warns dryly, hesitation slowing her hands as they travel along the rim of her hood, her thumbs caressing the fabric in brief consideration. And Daneli waits in suspense, half-tempted to close the distance between them and ease it back herself, until Halla does so herself with a complete lack of enthusiasm. It’s sheepish, and shy, but when she tucks a strand of teal behind one pointed ear, gaze sidecast, Daneli is ready. Rather than the horrified surprise of before, she carries on as Halla had asked of her by offering a welcome distraction, “Give me a hand, would you?”

The priestess certainly isn’t going to refuse her, more grateful for the out than Daneli has any business knowing. It’s a tedious process, but with four hands rather than two, the rest of her armor is piled neatly in under ten minutes. Finally, with her draenite belt and mace left within easy reach of the lake, she turns to scoop Hal’lasan’s hand into her own once more, tugging on it with well-practiced gentleness. 

Meanwhile, the priestess’s line of ‘sight’ flits from their joined hands to her face nervously, nearly tripping over herself when she tries to kick off her boots before they reach the lake’s edge. And as her toes touch the cool water, she squeezes Daneli’s hand, spluttering quietly, “Dani are you sure?”

“Trust me,” she returns, guiding the priestess inward until they’re at waist-level, the distance between them shortening significantly in tandem with a spike in her anxiety. Halla is sure she’s going to have a heart attack, her magic lashing wildly in every direction in an attempt to ground herself amongst the ripples - she wants to believe Daneli, but it doesn’t hurt to watch out for herself, right? 

“It’s like a big bathtub,” the paladin encourages quietly, her thumb rubbing over the back of the elven woman’s hand as a soothing gesture, the tingle of her magic noticeable enough that even she’s picked up on it.

“I can hold onto the edge of a bathtub,” she begins, accusatory. 

“Consider me your edge, then,” Daneli quips, nodding her chin towards the water though the gesture is probably lost on Halla, “come, I’ll hold my hands under you. Just let your back float along the surface.”

“I’m going to drown.”

She’s clinging for dear life.

“Trust me.”

She does. Which is why she’s in this demented position in the first place. Hal’lasan doesn’t have time to ponder that before considering that Daneli is in all likelihood getting impatient with her nonsense, a flush high on her cheeks as she tries to relax her body enough that it’ll float without consequence. (But really, Daneli has the patience of a saint with her.)

“Don’t let me go.”

“I could never.”

“Be serious,” Halla admonishes quietly, finally obliging the woman as smoothly as she can manage, though the halfling can still feel her muscles twitch, try as she might to control it. Halla’s hands remain held tightly over Daneli’s tunic even as she lies suspended in a bed of ripples, her braid coaxed by the water to escape its perch on her shoulder, instead half-unfurled around her companion’s form. For her part, Daneli keeps her word, her hands a stable presence under Halla as she maneuvers her bobbing form deeper into the lake until they’re flush at the center.

“Is it so bad?”

“Terrible.”

“You’re terrible.”

“But you’re still here.”

“I’m bound by oath.”

“I’m sure my charming wit and good looks have nothing to do with it.”

“What kind of paladin would I be if that was my only motivation in life?”

“You say that like you’re halfway decent as it is.”

Daneli jerks her hands back as if leaving the priestess to her own devices, biting back a snicker when Hal’lasan shrieks, nearly pulling her face-first into the lake with the grip she has on her tunic. Still, the moment passes, and the paladin restores her palms to their rightful place.

“You can’t say you didn’t see that one coming.”

“I can’t see anything coming, technically.”

“Halla,” the urge to faceplant is almost unbearable, and she would do so readily if she wasn’t otherwise occupied, “you are  _ literally _ the worst.”

“Oh come on, it was funny!”

And for once she can see the grin unfold across Halla’s face, the sight hitting her like a breath of fresh air. If the paladin has stopped listening to the priestess’s chattering, Halla doesn’t seem to notice. She seems, instead, intent on watching the way the sunlight reflects off of the luminous scars on her partner’s face, illuminating every curve and shadow left by her low rise blouse. The soft slope of her flushed cheeks - the rounded tip of her scarred nose, even the way one of her pointed canines seems to wink at her as the priestess’s lips move with words she can hear, but not process quite yet. Daneli thinks that perhaps, she looks a bit like a painting. At some point, she realizes that Halla has gone quiet, her brows first tipped downwards in a frown, then quirked in questioning. 

“Was it something I said?”

What she wants to say is, ‘I know you’ve been staring,’ but settles for that instead.

“... I was thinking about how how the sun is making the forest look a bit like a painting.”

Daneli is a terrible liar. But perhaps, she’s a bit better at half-truths. 

“... You are the strangest person I’ve ever met. So, how long do I float here before I’m swimming laps around you? I’m assuming my skills improve on a scale of how well I can imitate a corpse.” There’s a bit of bite to it, but Daneli has known her for long enough to tell when she’s teasing. Such is the case.

“Aah, I was just waiting until you brought it up. Means you’re comfortable, right?”

“Never.”

“Whatever you say, Halla.”

Yet she doesn’t protest when the paladin flips her over with ease, guiding her clumsy movements until the sky darkens, and the water chills. It looks like Halla had ended up in her arms, after all. 


	9. [ She's not jealous. She refuses to believe that she's jealous. ]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our duo finds a caravan, and someone has a meltdown. Or: Halla gets jealous, and realizes a few things. But it's not what you'd expect.

By some stroke of luck, the duo manages to get picked up somewhere along the road by a small group whose only members consist of a pair of siblings, their horses, and a few armed caravan guards. Despite her initial protests, once Hal’lasan is graciously offered a seat on the back of the wagon, she’s happy to tag along, seated next to another woman while Daneli joins the guards in their march across the Barrens. 

Once she’s settled comfortably and out of the way of the sun, the woman nudges her side gently, eyes sharp over the bend of her hood, “M’name’s Bella, that there is m’ brotha’ Draven. Rest o’ this lot, ya don’t need t’mind too much. Wot’s the story w’you an’ blue ova’ there? Don’t see too many o’ your sort travelin’ through ‘ere.”

She inclines her head cordially, though travelling with Daneli for so long has made her ill accustomed to actually ‘looking’ at people when she’s speaking to them, “Hal’lasan, but you can call me Halla. The story? Aah… well, she overslept on our first day together and we missed our boat, so she decided that it was a good idea to get to Stormwind on foot, instead.”

“She’s bloody insane. No wondah ya threw ya’self at m’ wagon like a madwoman, ya feet must be in ribbons by now. That really it, though?”

She quirks a brow, her shoulders shifting with interest. Halla isn’t quite sure that she likes where that mischievous tone is going, “What else would it be?”

“Ya’d have t’be daft not t’see it. B’tween you’n’me, it ain’t yet been a minute an’ she’s already lookin’ this way again. Now, eitha ya friend’s a bit sweet on ya, or I’d bettah start makin’ googly eyes back.” 

Halla flusters, unaccustomed to such brazenness, “W-we’re not like that. Daneli likes to check up often - I’d imagine that it makes her feel like she’s doing her duty properly.”

“Aah, hired help, then. If thas the case, ya don’ mind if I take a crack a’ ‘er?”

“Take a crack at- oh.  _ Oh _ . I… suppose not. I’ll warn you now, though, she’s a huge sadist.”

There’s a million things wrong with that sentence, but she can’t stop herself.

“All the bettah. I like it a bit rough, anyway.”

Halla tells herself that she doesn’t mind. She’s not Daneli’s keeper, after all. If she wants to tumble with the Gilnean woman, that’s her business.

⧪

Halla lied. She does mind, very much. Especially when Daneli’s been busting a gut over Bella’s crude jokes for what feels like the past hour, leaving her to sulk on the back of the wagon by herself. It makes her stomach turn in a distinctly green way, and for once she’s grateful that she can’t see if only because it spares her from the sight of the cackling duo. So caught up is she in her thoughts, that she nearly mistakes the man who takes a place next to her on the wagon for Daneli merely by the clink of his armor, and when she turns to snap at him, she’s glad that her assumption is derailed by the warm timbre of his voice before she’s able.

“Bit lonely ova’ ‘ere by ya’self, ain’t it? M’ Draven, but I’m willin’ t’bet that Bella already told ya all sorts’a sordid things ‘bout me.”

“They were sordid, but not about you. Is that surprising?”

Yes, she can focus on this - it’s a welcome distraction.

“Not so much when ya think ‘bout wot she’s busy chasin’ roight now. Won’t be surprised if ya guard takes a long walk aftah makin’ sure ya in bed.”

And it’s gone before it even had a chance.

“I wouldn’t know,” she bristles quietly, the thought of them together so inherently wrong in her head that she can’t fathom why it would ever come to fruition. But what does she know? The paladin certainly seems to be having a ball. Without her.

Draven observes her for some time before giving a hum riddled with understanding, crossing his arms. His gaze flits between the hunched priestess, and the pair some ways away inquisitively, “Sensative topic, then?”

“Not at all.”

“Seems like ya gettin’ right pissed ‘bout it for it to be nothin’. Not my place t’ ask ‘bout it, though. I’m jus’ here t’ take a rest b’fore she comes back t’ hog it.”

“I’ll excuse myself, then,” she returns curtly, sliding from the edge of the wagon though she’s not entirely sure where she’ll go now.

“Be careful out there,” Draven warns softly, deciding to steer clear of the elven woman’s wrath for now. No sense in trying to establish banter with her when she’s this frazzled.

For her part, Hal’lasan gives a short hum in response, hesitating in direction before another peal of laughter wafts her way, prompting her to pick the path directly opposite. She thinks that perhaps, she’s being unreasonably petty. Perhaps, the reason that this is so infuriating is because she can’t understand  _ why _ it’s messing with her so badly. By the time she’s come to that conclusion, she’s a fair distance from camp, alone amongst the trees with the moon as her only witness. She sighs, rubbing a hand over her face once the reality of how pathetic she’s being sets in. 

“Come on. You were just fine before this whole thing happened. Pull it together.”

Yes, she was alone before this whole ordeal. And she was just fine before joining the caravan because she’d forgotten what it was like.She hadn’t yet had to share the paladin’s attention with anyone, much less someone  _ interested _ in her. Perhaps, hearing Daneli have such a good time away from her had worked the notion that she might prefer to follow Bella instead of her into Halla’s head, distressing her. And that’s when she realizes that it isn’t anger that she’s been feeling, not really. It’s  _ fear.  _

[ She’s not jealous. She refuses to believe that she’s jealous. ] 

And when she hears Daneli calling for her in the distance, she ducks behind a tree, embarrassed at the mere thought that somehow, the paladin would know what’s been plaguing her for the better part of the evening.

“Halla! Please say something if you’re out here! Naaru, where could she have gone?”

“Don’ worry so much, luv. Probably out takin’ a long piss or somethin’. Since we’re already out here, though…”

She doesn’t want to listen to this. Halla squeezes her eyes shut over the sound of rustling fabric, unwilling to interrupt lest she embarrass herself further until her ear twitches, suspended in disbelief when rather than what she’d been expecting, all she can hear is Bella’s disgruntled grunt. 

“Easy, luv.”

“Please, Bella. I appreciate your interest, but my priorities lie elsewhere.”

There’s a moment of silence before Bella, sheepish, rubs her neck, “Aah, shite. I get it now. Roight. Alroight, ya take this area and I’ll look ova’ there. We’ll find ‘er.”

“I would prefer if you went back to camp. That way, I only have to worry about one of you,” there’s a smile in her voice, and it’s such a Daneli thing to say that Halla can’t help but shake her head.

“Now ya just butterin’ me up. Seeya two back at camp, then.”

And when Bella’s footsteps have faded to silence, Daneli resumes her search, nearly giving Halla a heart attack when she begins straying close to her hiding spot. Seeing no other alternative, she folds downwards, tipping her chin downwards so as to feign sleep when the paladin finds her at last. She struggles not to smile when Daneli clicks her tongue in disapproval, wiggling her arms underneath Halla’s body to carry her, rather than shake her awake. The priestess lets her cheek rest against her companion’s shoulder, the ordeal earlier forgotten in favor of the pleased buzzing in her abdomen. 

“Honestly… what am I going to do with you?”

She almost can’t help herself. But she’ll never hear the end of it if Daneli knows she’s been awake this entire time. Halla knows that perhaps, on her end, their relationship is not entirely healthy. But for now, it’s enough, even if she feels less sane than she has in years.


	10. "I pledge myself to you." "I can't believe we just did that."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone plays caravan defense, and ancient magic is invoked. Or: Halla and Daneli are stuck together, for real this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ I have no idea how this happened. They have a mind of their own. Thanks for the kudos guys! ]

Bella doesn’t bring it up, and neither does she in the coming days. Daneli had actually been a bit worried, the prospect of robbing Halla of a chance to get off her feet over something as trivial as sex nagging at the back of her mind until the following day. Thankfully, it hadn’t come to that - the two women actually seem to be getting along quite well, leaving her one less thing to worry about. Peeling her gaze from the wagon, she turns to Draven, observing with a hand resting leisurely on the hilt of her mace as he puffs a cigar.

“Why choose to walk when you could ride on the wagon with your sister?”

“M’sistah’s the tradah, I’m jus’ here t’ knock off the riffraff. No sense crampin’ m’legs up for when th’ real fight comes. Why don’t ya join ya lady, then?”

The paladin smirks, “I’m much the same. Besides, I can’t hear her whining from all the way over here.”

“Hah! Look ova’ there enough t’ read the whinin’ right off ‘er lips. Both o’ you are hopeless.”

“I resent that! I’d imagine knowing that I check up on her so often makes her feel safe, so I do.”

“M’sure thas it. Don’ know wha’ kind o’ pay she’s got ya hooked on, but I want some o’ that.”

“She doesn’t pay me at all. If anything, she spends all my money on snacks instead.”

Draven scoffs, “Bella’s roight, ya bloody mad.”

For some reason, she feels vaguely insulted - nevermind the fact that she  _ should _ feel insulted, “I am duty bound to her.”

“Nevah understood ya oathsworn types. But thas comin’ from a tradah’s son. Nothin’ t’ be gained from it.”

Nevermind the fact that their oath is, at best, tentative. She never did formally pledge herself to the priestess. The thought hadn’t occured to her, but now, it’s another thing prickling at the back of her neck.

“It’s a matter of honor.”

“Honah’s not gonna help ya when ya family’s starvin’.”

“What is so wrong with helping just for the sake of it?”

“M’ not sayin’ ya wrong. I jus’ don’ understand it. But I s’ppose that makes ya a bettah person than I am. Nothin’ wrong in admittin’ that.”

And she’s not so sure of that, letting a comfortable silence descend over the procession as she takes time to ponder their conversation. Time cut short from a shout across the way, Hal’lasan having jumped from her place on the wagon, staff in hand while Bella holds a startled frown.

“Daneli! Incoming!”

She doesn’t have time to ask before a dozen stocky, shadow masked figures leap from what seems like the nether itself, first descending upon the hapless guards on the outermost perimeter of the party, clearly intent on their goods. Chaos breaks in an instant, Draven giving a warrior’s rallying cry from her right as her vision locks in on Halla, too many bodies in her way for her to keep the priestess in her sights for long. Her faith comes to the forefront with a vengeance, mace and shield in hand as she charges to the nearest obstruction, her height an advantage as she bashes the goblin to the side, her poled mace driving another into the ground.

The draenite in her hands sings, and the halfling summoning a celestial hammer to her right, striking the troll currently dueling with Draven. He staggers, giving the berserker an opening to cleave through his shoulder with a bloodthirsty ‘thanks!’ shouted over his shoulder, but Daneli has already moved on, fixated on an orc currently giving Bella chase. Hal’lasan is nowhere to be found.

The human woman weaves past every one of his hulking strikes lithely in protection of her cargo, flipping out of the way to safety once backup arrives, Daneli’s mace poised to strike the brute’s exposed side. But this marauder is not like the rest, his axe intercepting the swing and staggering her in return for her arrogance. He advances without mercy, Daneli grunting as his weapon batters her shield with bone-breaking force, forcing it from her hands. And just when she’s sure that his next swing will do more than just break a few bones, she hears Hal’lasan roar in the near distance, the brute’s axe bouncing off of the luminescent bubble surrounding her in an instant. 

Not a moment passes before a barrage of equally incandescent light flies past her with a fury, exploding on contact with the marauder, who gives a pained howl in return. With her wits about her, Daneli ignores the blossoming bruises on her arm and brandishes her mace, Light flashing from her figure as she brings it down on her adversary’s head, his lifeblood splattering across her face - and subsequently Hal’lasan’s hood as well. The elven woman is pressed against her back in an instant, the two surveying the field in tandem. Their breaths fill the air between them in a way that Daneli thinks is a bit intimate, but she has to admit that it feels good to have someone at her back, even if it’s the charge she’s supposed to be tasked with protecting.

“Getting rusty, Dani?”

“Only letting you pay me back for last time!”

“Don’t be a sore loser!” Halla laughs, another crackling blast revealing what looks to be a fleeing troll which is subsequently dealt with by Draven’s flying axe. With his death, the rest of the group is either slain or in retreat with their tails between their legs, which is just as well with the paladin. 

“I have never seen such an aggressive priest in my life.”

“Weren’t you paying attention last time?”

“I was a bit occupied!”

The group concurs, each checking on their own in the pause, unwilling to relax fully on the off chance that there are more raiders lying in wait. All in all, the most severe of their injuries amount to gashes that look worse than they actually are, and an array of bruises from all but Bella and the priestess. 

“I think that went well.”

“Watchin’ ya two fight almost left m’ blind. Coulda warned me, I’d ‘ave put on m’ bloody sunglasses."

“Aah, quit ya bitchin’ Bella. Cargo’s in one piece, tha’s all that mattah’s. ‘Ow’d ya know they were comin’?”

And Daneli too, turns her attention to Hal’lasan, curious as to how she’d managed to pull that one off. For her part, the priestess shrugs helplessly, wringing her hands over her staff.

“I had a feeling. It’s hardly ever wrong, so trust me when I say that we won’t be surprised by any marauders as long as I’m around.”

Draven seems skeptical, while Bella appears smug, the former muttering to himself as the latter crosses her arms, a brow perked. 

“Sure ya two don’ wan’ a permanent post on m’ caravan? It’s good money.”

Halla shoots Daneli an amused look - or what the paladin assumes amounts to one, given that the only thing visible is her lips - before answering for them both, “Perhaps, one day.”

“Bettah than a straight no in my book. C’mon people, le’s get a move on. No good bein’ sittin’ ducks out ‘ere.”

And when they finally settle for the evening just off the outskirts of Ratchet, it’s with the satisfaction of a good fight, and the warmth of cured pork in their bellies courtesy of Bella’s stash. When Daneli takes her off to the side, she thinks little of it, given how she’d essentially been bribed into it with bits of said pork.

“Halla.”

“Mmh?”

“Stop chewing for a second and listen, would you?”

The priestess swallows, hiding a private smile.

“What’s so important that you couldn’t just do this by the fire?”

“I thought it’d be more uncomfortable that way.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

She clears her throat, folding downwards onto one knee with her mace held in front of herself. Halla thinks that, perhaps, she sounds a bit flustered but not nearly as flustered as she’s about to be if this is what she thinks it is.

“So, I’ve been thinking that-”

“Are you proposing to me because you saw me beat the crap out of a raider? Because I  _ really  _ did not see this one coming.”

Daneli groans, swatting at her ankles with a healthy flush rising to her cheeks, “That is not what is happening  _ at all _ . Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?”

“Oh. Right, right. Carry on, then.”

“Just shut up and listen for a minute, would you?”

And Hal’lasan complies if only just for now, biting back a laugh. Really, she’s too easy.

“Earlier, one of our new friends reminded me that we never really made our arrangement official.”

“I’m perfectly fine with taking your word for it, Daneli.”

This is not going as she’d imagined. 

“Halla, this is important to me.”

And that finally shuts her up, the elven woman folding her hands together patiently as she listens to the paladin continue, the note of frustration fading from her tone.

“I would like to - if it’s alright with you… aah, what’s your surname?”

“Skybloom.”

She thinks that it’s a rather cute surname for such a sarcastic woman. It suits her.

“Thank you. Bear with me, please,” she clears her throat, clearing her head of all other thoughts but those of her charge with little difficulty, “with the Light as my witness, I, Daneli,  swear to devote my life, solely and fully to the completion of your journey until a time where you see fit to release me from my oath. Until that time, I will not stray from my path in defense of your safety, and uphold your honor even in the face of insurmountable odds.”

She takes a breath, lifting her chin to peer upwards into the priestess’s unseeing, dotted eyes with firm resolve, “Hal’lasan Skybloom, do you accept my oath, and consent to become my oathsworn?”

And if it stirs something within her, Halla blames it firmly on the shift of energies transpiring between them, licking her parched lips. With her hands resting over Daneli’s own, she kneels before her, her magic whispering over the paladin’s features searchingly. And when she speaks, it’s softer than the halfling has ever heard her.

“Daneli, are you sure? This is ancient magic. There is no taking it back once it’s done.”

“I have never been so sure of something in my life. The Light has compelled me here, and it is for a purpose. I must fulfill my destiny, and by some chance it seems that it is intertwined with your own. Halla, do you accept?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to think this over? You could just be experiencing clouded judgement from the battle, I don’t want you to regret this-”

“Hal’lasan, do you accept me as your shield?”

She bites her lip, leaning her forehead forward against the paladin’s, her luminescent scars prickling beneath her shroud. If Daneli knew how selfish her innermost thoughts have been lately, would she still want to go through with this?

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? Alright… alright, I accept, if you’re sure.”

The hum of ancient magic is ripe in the air around them as the words leave her lips, something akin to moonlight twisting around their overlapping hands, making Halla’s fingers tingle while Daneli feels goosebumps paving a path over her arms. For an instant, Hal’lasan swears that she can see the paladin’s soul burn brighter than she’s ever seen it, a touch of the very same silver housed in its center. She breathes a sigh, lingering for the barest of moments before leaning back, accepting Daneli’s hand when it’s offered.

“You know what this means, right? You’re  _ really _ stuck with me this time.”

“I can handle you just fine.”

“Now you’re just getting cocky. I can’t believe we just did that. You might as well have actually proposed.”

“So what you’re saying is, that you’re never going to let me go?”

“Don’t twist my words! Goddess, you’re impossible.”

“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts?”

“Please, it’s much too late for that.”

“Then it’s settled. By the way, how did you  _ actually _ see the raiders coming?”

“The short version is, I might not be able to see like the rest of you, but I do have something akin to true sight.”

“Spooky.”

“Oh, shut it.”

She doesn’t understand how the paladin can be so nonchalant about it, how she can have so much faith in something so uncertain. She’s not perfect by any means, but Hal’lasan thinks that if she has to be stuck with anyone for the foreseeable future, she’s glad it’s Daneli.


	11. "She's taken." "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you almost sounded jealous there."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daneli gets a taste of her own medicine, and the duo shares a dance. Or: karma is not as big a bitch as she's been told, and two left hooves are the way to a woman's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ I wrote this in the dead of the night, so I apologize in advance for any discontinuities. Sorry for the lateness! Was celebrating my birthday. Cheers! ]

“She’s taken.”

Daneli doesn’t know how she’s managed to get here from all the way across the tavern, the wide path left in her wake indicating that she’d all but shoved her way past those that’d had the misfortune of standing between her, and her charge. Her brow twitches, and she finds that she doesn’t have the good graces to appear abashed when Hal’lasan leans back into her unarmored body, nearly purring with satisfaction by the looks of it.

Meanwhile, her prospective partner peers between them, downing the drink in hand with a disgruntled set of murmurs before turning heel back to the corner from which he’d come. She watches him retreat stiffly, her stomach turning restlessly until he’s hidden from sight by other patrons, and her attention is drawn back to Hal’lasan. The elven woman seems to have decided that in return for agreeing to humor her (very insistent) request to stop in town for the midsummer fires, she’s going to have a bit of fun for herself.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you almost sounded jealous there.”

“You looked uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure,” Halla snickers dryly, the tail of her festival dress fluttering daintily as she turns to face the irritated paladin. “Since that was my only offer, does that mean you’ll finally stop being a wallflower and dance with me? This was your idea, you know.”

_Yes,_ she wants to say, _but I didn’t expect that you would draw so much attention._ She’s sure that the priestess understands this, and exploits it anyways to keep her own attention from straying to more pleasant things. What an inconsiderate little…

Well. Better her, than that man. She’s the one that picked the dress, after all. No sense in letting someone else enjoy it.

“Not here.”

“Then where?”

“You’re so noisy,” she sighs dramatically, promptly taking the elven woman’s hand so as to tug her beyond the doors, a quick turn bringing them to the soft field of grass just behind the building, where the bard is still loud enough to be heard. She decides that this is far enough to spare the other taverngoers her absolutely horrendous dancing, and turns to her companion searchingly. “Does this satisfy you?”

“I never imagined that you would be so shy,” Halla teases gently in turn, seeking Daneli’s free hand without relinquishing the other, now setting it on the dip of her waist, “if I can swim, you can most certainly dance. Don’t pout at me.”

Daneli’s gaze falls over the wine-colored swathe of fabric masking her face hesitantly, distracting herself in the elegant twists it makes around her loosely plaited hair. Tonight, Hal’lasan is a prettier sight than usual, her shapely legs peeking out from under the loose, petal-like fabric of her matching skirts, her bodice leaving much of her shoulders bare. Halla had complained of feeling exposed in it, initially. Personally, it reminds her of the afternoon they’d spent in the lake before being offered a place with Bella’s group, the priestess as otherworldly now as she was then. But this time, the lake is no barrier between the warmth of Halla’s skin, and her own.

She almost wishes that Halla would’ve forgone the makeshift mask altogether.

For now, her grip on the woman’s waist shifts in tandem with the start of a new song, their sway holding no small amount of stiffness on the paladin’s part. Halla bites a laugh back, humming in time with the bard’s call encouragingly before taking a step back. She lets Daneli flounder for only a moment, straining onto the tips of her toes to raise their intertwined hands the best that she can, the other making a leisurely spin gesture.

“This is one of few times that I wish I was wearing shoes. Not that anything short of stilts would make me taller than you. Relax. Aren’t you always telling me that this is supposed to be fun?”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Daneli grumbles, but there’s a hint of a smile in it as she shuffles in a circle, having to squat down to give Halla proper leverage.

“Come on, it’s not _that_ bad.”

“Absolutely terrible.”

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like me.”

“Light. We spend too much time together. Your turn,” she lifts Halla’s hand easily, watching as her skirts flutter, the priestess admittedly more graceful in her actions than she had been.

“If you don’t like it, then why did you come back for another?”

“Shut up. You never told me that you like to dance.”

“You never asked.”

“That’s not something you just… ask, out of nowhere.”

“You’ve asked me stranger things. I see no difference.”

Before she can even form it, Hal’lasan interrupts her response, allowing herself to fall back with the blind trust that Daneli will catch her, as she always does. The paladin does not disappoint, and it occurs to her that this is the closest they’ve been out of something other than necessity. Peering over the priestess’s softly parted lips, she wonders if perhaps she’s enjoying it more than she should. And when her thoughts branch into more sinful paths than she’d intended, she’s infinitely grateful that Hal’lasan’s habit of being snippy is enough to pull her from her treacherous mind, allowing her to discard anything but the present. For now.

“I wasn’t aware that processing that would take so much brain power from you. As nice as this is, my leg is cramping a bit here.”

“Right,” Daneli nearly drops her, the two fumbling for a second before Hal’lasan is back on her feet none the wiser. Not for the first time, she’s guiltily appreciative of both her lack of sight, and her denseness.

Halla straightens her dress with little fuss, her ear twitching slightly with the shuffle of bodies from within the tavern.

“Think we should join in on the brawl that’s inevitably starting right now?”

“I’ll pass.”

She smirks, but bows her head nonetheless. “I’ll count my victories, then. Thank you for the dance, Dani.”

“So it’s ‘Dani’ again? If I’d known a few minutes of bad dancing would draw that one out, I’d have done it ages ago.”

“Don’t get too cocky. You weren’t even all that bad, after you stopped moving like a constipated worgen.”

“Why do you know what that looks like? No - actually, I don’t want to know the answer to that one.”

“Wise choice.”

“Halla.”

“Mm?”

“I would not be opposed, if the mood strikes and you’re without a partner. A dancing partner, I mean.”

“Noted. I’ll be sure to abuse that as often as possible.”

“Is it too late to take it back?”

“Yes.”

“Crap, she really is a slave driver. Guess it’s too late to run away now.”

And the priestess giggles softly to herself at the ludicrous nature of it all, though she’s nothing if not pleasantly surprised by both the offer, and the subsequent joke.

Daneli finds that she quite likes it, silently resolving to make it a point to draw that particular noise from her charge as often as possible.

_This,_ she thinks, _will do just fine, for now._


	12. "Let's see if you're more than just talk." "I think I'm not the only lightweight here."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hal'lasan helps Daneli unwind, inadvertently making tensions stronger between them. Or: Daneli has a drink, and they tango. (But not exactly as she'd imagined.)

Halla is nowhere to be found when she returns, even after she’d gone through the trouble of asking (begging) her to  _ please stay put, I’ll only be a minute. _ Typical. And now Daneli is left to run around the docks like a headless chicken in search of a flash of teal, her masked companion proving to be nearly more trouble than she’s worth once again. 

She sincerely hopes that Hal’lasan hasn’t gotten herself into any mischief with the local pirates, considering that she’s just traded away her heavy plate in favor of something more jungle-wise. 

_ No, _ the paladin finds with great displeasure,  _ she’s busy armwrestling them instead. And with a good crowd, too. Light. _

Slinking past the gathered spectators, she halts over the edge of Halla’s corner, leaning a single hand on it whilst the other remains perched over her hip. To say that her brow is raised to astronomical heights would be an understatement. 

“Nice of you to wait for me.”

“Nice of you to finally catch up.”

“How did you manage to do this in the two minutes that I was gone? You’re ridiculous.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit occupied here,” she grunts in return, her bicep straining against the force of her bearded opponent. Halla finds that her distraction had cost her an annoying amount of wiggle room, her forearm being pushed back as her fingers flex and unflex over the pirate’s in apparent concentration. To anyone else, it would seem as if Hal’lasan had reached the limit of her strength - after all, she’s short, not overtly muscular, and a  _ magic wielder  _ of all things. 

However, Daneli knows better. Though she might roll her eyes in the process, she joins the betting pool, opting for the unlikely chance than the elven woman might actually one-up the seadog she’s heard referred to as ‘Huxley.’ 

“You ready for this, Dani?”

“I can’t believe you.”

Disregarding her, Halla’s tight-lipped expression shifts to one harboring a vicious grin, her arm flexing almost violently as she slams it in the opposite direction, giving Huxley only enough time to give one jolting resistance before the shock ultimately finishes the job for her. She’s on her feet in an instant, allowing her grin to fade into a firm smugness while the circle gathered gives a collective groan. Whether it’s outrage, or plain discontent at having been duped, she doesn’t care to know. It’s not her fault that they’d made the mistake of underestimating her. She refrains from making a remark when she senses Daneli receiving her share, content with the knowledge that in all likelihood, she’s begrudgingly impressed.

“Fair’s fair. And I didn’t use any magic, before you try that excuse.”

“Alright, alright, here’s your share. Scram.”

Without needing to be told twice, she leaves the scattering crowd with a swiftness, acknowledging the skeptical paladin on her tail.

“That was unlike you.”

“Which part?”

“Running off? I expected that. But putting yourself in a crowd intentionally? That’s unusual.  _ Provoking people? _ Did you have a drink while you were at it too? ”

“You know I don’t drink.”

“Nice try. Can’t help but notice that you’ve been awfully adventurous ever since we got off the boat.”

“It’s a nice change of pace,” she defends, somewhat sheepish, “look at where we are, Daneli. This place is  _ the _ place to be reckless.”

“Not overly much, I hope,” the paladin chides softly, shaking her head with an exasperated sigh. How on Azeroth is she supposed to safeguard the priestess’s life if she deliberately puts herself into these situations?

“You worry too much. I don’t think I’ve seen you unwind once on our way here. Are you capable, I wonder?”

“I assure you, I’m quite capable. I’ll relax when the journey is done.”

“Or run yourself ragged trying. Come on,” it’s Halla that takes her hand this time, hesitating for the barest of moments as she centers herself, and leads her beyond the doors of a nearby building. 

“You surprise me every day. It’s almost like you don’t want to get to Stormwind.”

“I’m in no rush. One lost day won’t kill you.”

And Daneli thinks that it’s a wild leap from when they’d begun, hiding a private smile.

“Never thought I’d hear that one from you. Always rushing me, woman. Now  _ that’s _ a nice change of pace.”

“And you’re still absolutely insufferable. What’s your drink of choice?”

“Pale ale if they have it - if not, brown will do.” Daneli peers after her as Halla turns heel in search of the bartender, leaning over the table’s pocked surface to rest her chin over the back of her interlocked fingers. She considers the priestess, musing over the flashy plait of teal which she’s had the pleasure of viewing for the past week or so. Ever since they’d shared their first dance near Ratchet, Hal’lasan has seemed to her warmer, perhaps even playfully affectionate at times. At others, she behaves as if it’d never happened at all, perplexing the hell out of the poor paladin. She almost wants to shake the petite woman and demand that she make up her mind before she loses her own. Though, part of her is wary of what that would entail.

Huffing another exasperated breath from her nose, she straightens when said woman returns with both a tankard and a tall glass, placing them gingerly over their shared table.

“One pale for you, extra fruity.”

“How did you know?”

“You seem the type,” she comments nonchalantly, the edge of mischief curving the corner of her lips before she can stop it.

“What? Hey! Real funny, Halla.”  _ You have no idea. _ “Wine for yourself, then? I didn’t think a place like this would have it.”

“They don’t. It’s moonberry juice.”

“No, really.”

“Really,” she lofts a brow, sipping her juice daintily while her legs cross of their own accord, awaiting the inevitable questions that come whenever she does something unusual. Which is often today, she admits inwardly. Perhaps she’s just feeling generous.

“This is the part where you regale me with what I’m sure is a fascinating story about some sort of elven jungle juice you drank in your younger years that made you to swear off alcohol forever.”

“I am not nearly that old,” she sniffs indignantly, nudging the paladin with her foot under the table, “and I prefer to stay lucid. I have bad memories with it.”

She should have known that Daneli would jump to the worst possible conclusion, the woman’s gaze on her shrouded features intense as she leans over the table searchingly.

“Were they ever caught?”

“What?”

“The person… people, who hurt you. Were they ever caught?”

“Oh- I,” and she doesn’t know what to say for a long moment, the malice in Daneli’s tone an unknown variable for the priestess. She’s not so sure that she minds it.

“I didn’t mean it  _ that _ way. It doesn’t take much for my control of magic to get a bit slippery, and it causes me problems after a few pints, as you might imagine,” she explains, gesturing to her unseeing eyes, then adding as an afterthought, “I’m flattered by your concern, though. Truly.”

And now Daneli is equally uncomfortable for having unintentionally breached the subject so crassly, allowing herself a few hasty swallows from her tankard as she mulls the information over in her head. The ale washes over her tongue crisply, the fruity taste she so likes providing a welcome respite from the overall awkwardness of the situation.

“Still, I… you know that I would never let anything happen to you if you were to partake, right?”

The priestess hesitates as if taken aback, tucking a strand of teal behind her ear reflexively, “I’d be a fool not to believe you by now. But I didn’t bring you here to talk about myself.” She waves the woman off as if dispelling the previous subject, instead gesturing towards the drink that Daneli is nursing.

“We’re here to forget about all of the very depressing things you’re so fond of talking about.”

“Can you blame me for wanting to know more about the woman I share a bed with?”

“It was  _ one _ time! What was I supposed to do, sleep on the floor?”

Daneli disregards her, gleefully adding, “You’re a cuddler. And a lightweight too, apparently.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t let that go. Don’t smirk at me like that.”

“Halla, you can’t even see my face right now.”  _ Or ever, but you know. _

“I can feel it, it’s that obnoxious.”

Daneli has to cough to cover a laugh lest she be harped at further, her subsequent sigh a rather content one. She finds that Hal’lasan’s vaguely flustered expression is doing all sorts of pleasant things to her stomach, something she allows herself to linger over for once. She’ll blame it on the ale later. Pressing forward, Daneli nudges the woman in return, hiding another smile behind the lip of her tankard.

“Don’t complain if you liked it.”

“I was cold because you hogged all the blankets, that’s all. It was only fair that you share your body warmth with me in return.”

“You’re not denying it, Halla,” there’s a definite croon in her voice, and the paladin doesn’t know exactly what she’s trying to bait out, only that it is  _ intensely _ satisfying after putting up with the priestess’s unruly behavior. She finds that there’s a unique pleasure in making the color rise to her cheeks, tinting them a pretty mauve over her usual skin tone. 

“I think I’m not the only lightweight here,” Hal’lasan evades, trying to ignore the rising heat of the room. Never mind that Daneli hasn't yet finished her first pint. The first of several, she imagines. Halla thinks that she might like one of her own, if not for the oh so mild inconvenience that it causes. 

_ If I ignore her, she’ll go away. _

Yeah, right.

“Hey.” 

“What is it now?” 

“Dance with me.” 

And the priestess must take a moment to contain herself, her magic coiling around herself warmly. It threatens to expand and envelop them both, shimmering in the air around them briefly before she can stop it. The paladin is on a roll, it seems, and no force on Azeroth will stop her.

“I'll take that as a yes.” 

“You're too much for me.” 

“I told you that I could handle you.” 

“Cocky, much too cocky.” 

“Aah, I thought that you were helping me relieve stress, not cause it?”

“And I thought that dancing was a stressful activity for you.”

_ With anyone else, perhaps, but… _

“Nonsense. Unless you’re too shy?”

“Now  _ that _ is nonsense. Up, then. I’ll show you how to  _ really _ dance. You’ll regret the day you actually asked for it, Daneli.”

“Then I will do so gladly. Let’s see if you’re more than just talk.”

Suffice it to say, that Daneli is thoroughly worn out that day. (But perhaps not exactly as she’d hoped).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Somehow, this turned into sexual tension. Or maybe I'm the only one reading it that way? Regardless, thank you for the kudos everyone, and a special thanks to Scyllatian for the lovely comment! ]


	13. "What happened down there?" "I don't want to talk about it."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the duo is separated, and Daneli is faced with a difficult choice. Or: Daneli gets shaken by some spookies, and Halla can't do much about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ You guys are amazing!! Thank you for your kind words, TheWanderingNine. I didn't intend for this to be kind of spooky, but I've been on a horror movie marathon, so this happened. Enjoy! ]

The soft patter of rain is their only comfort in the dense jungle, droplets struggling to reach them over the canopy above. It seems to ward off the raptors known for wandering these parts well enough, which is a decent trade-off as far as Hal’lasan is concerned. Daneli, on the other hand, is less contented. 

“Traveling this way is too dangerous, Halla. When the rain picks up, we won’t have anywhere to go.”

Halla peers at her dryly - or what constitutes as such a look for her - and outstretches her hand, allowing the droplets slide between her fingers idly, “It’ll put the jungle to sleep, we’re fine.”

“I think you’re underestimating the kind of creatures that live here.”

“And I think you’re underestimating  _ us _ .”

Daneli’s lips press into a thin line, gaze flitting between the priestess, and the storm-touched patches of sky above, “It’s going to get really hard for me to see here soon. Then what?”

“Don’t you trust me to guide you by now?”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I think you’re okay with that.”

She has no idea.

“Absolutely not. Quit being stubborn, come on.”

And Halla remains rooted in place when Daneli branches off from their set path with equal bullheadedness, promptly disappearing behind the brush. The elven woman crosses her arms when two minutes turns into ten, her foot tapping in a mixture of impatience and the beginnings of worry. The rain she’d found so soothing minutes prior becomes nothing but an annoying obstruction to her hearing, the woman instead breathing deeply so as to pull herself out of the proverbial pit she’s dug herself into. Another moment passes before she squints into the jungle, her seeing magic whispering over the lumbering trunks before her, parting foliage in its wake to no avail. 

A frown finds itself firmly planted over her features as she finally steps forward, puzzled.

“Dani?”

⧪

All the while, said woman finds that her head is pounding with a force that blinds her, no more helpful to her than the oppressive darkness filling the chamber into which she’s fallen. The foliage which had once hidden the hole which she’s fallen through now lies scattered beneath her, crunching softly when she regains enough of her wits to lift her torso from the ground. Running her fingers over the swelling surface of the back of her skull, she hisses out a curse, and takes stock of the rest of her injuries. 

Aside from being marginally cold and wet, she has nothing but a few bruises to fuss over, opting instead to turn her attention to her dim surroundings. Daneli concludes that it’s unusually quiet, even in the face of an incoming storm, and sincerely hopes that Hal’lasan has the good sense to get herself to shelter before the brunt of it arrives instead of looking for her.

Disregarding the thought for now, she summons a sphere of light to illuminate the chamber, nearly jumping out of her skin when the spark of magic breathes life into the fungi lining it. The clusters pulse softly with a ghostly luminescence as her own guiding light fades, one colony after the other declaring its presence until the spark reaches the back of the chamber. There, she finds two distinct pathways - one appearing to lead up, the other, while the other leads further into the chamber.

The paladin swallows, gathering her fallen shield so as to lend herself courage, and presses forward beyond the archway appearing to lead to the exit of the long hall. As a precaution, she happens to peer over her shoulder, at first finding nothing out of the ordinary. However, a second, longer look reveals the absence of both the foliage and the hidden trap, instead leaving nothing but a fungus-lined wall. If she wasn’t on edge before, she certainly is now, tentative fingers prodding the decisively solid stone now obstructing any chance of turning back.

“No way but forward, I suppose. Light.”

Ordinarily, her cool head would prevail over a situation like this. Yet, here she can’t quite shake the feeling that she’s being watched, especially when a phantom breeze whispers over the back of her neck, bringing with it a murmur that seems too close to her ears for comfort.

“Who is there? Reveal yourself!”

And she peers in every direction trying to find the culprit, her palm flexing over the handle bound to her shield as a comfort. To her left, a doorway materializes, bringing with it another chamber which houses what seems to be a sizable pool in its center.

_ “Come, come…. closer.” _

“Who are you? What is this place?”

_ “Please… help… me.” _

The presence she’d sensed in the halls lingers strongly in this larger, more humid room and she has to wonder if it’s emanating from what sounds to be a sniveling child, or the thing keeping him imprisoned. Centering herself, she recalls:  _ Jevamo, Epolmono, Konona _ . To refuse an innocent in danger would be to forgo her vows to the Light, regardless of how dangerous it may seem.

“I am coming. You will not be held captive much longer, little one.”

A shift in the pond below steals her attention, fallen petals of an unknown source gaining the very same luminescence as the clusters on the walls almost as if to reveal its crystalline surface. She thinks it odd considering how liquid it had looked from afar, but presses forward nonetheless, swallowing the gasp that threatens to escape upon spotting the pitiful sight beneath. A mass of rags lies curled within the crystal-topped pit, so filthy and malnourished than Daneli might have mistaken the child for a corpse if not for the crooked smile she receives.

“ _ You...found...me…” _

“Light, how did you get here? Save your strength, help is coming.”

She kneels, setting aside her shield to place a tentative hand over the surface of the pond. It’s colder than expects, her gut roiling with the faint sting that it brings.

“ _ Please… help… me… friend…” _

And though her gut pleads for her to leave the matter be, how can she possibly live in good conscience after leaving a helpless child to die alone in a musty cave? Even now, she worries that she may not be able to act quickly enough. 

“Hold on, little one. It is almost over.”

Light begins gathering in her palm, and it resonates within the draenite at her hip, the woman lifting her hammer to turn it over in her hands. 

“Shield yourself the best that you can. This may sting a little.” 

Then, without further hesitation, the hammer strikes decisively over the pond’s crystalline surface. Yet rather than shattering, it appears to shift back into the murky water she’d seen before, a low screeching sounding over the place where her Light-infused hammer had stricken. At once, the foreboding presence she’d felt upon entering returns in full force, steam rising from beneath the blackened waters to grasp her hammer and yank with a vengeance. Daneli grunts, digging her hooves into the ground as panicked magic begins channeling through her hands, another unholy wail echoing through the chamber when the newly formed tendrils of shadow are singed from the draenite. 

_ “DON’T LEAVE ME, DON’T LEAVE ME.” _

“You are not a child any longer! Leave this world! It is time to move on!”

The stagnant air seems to whip around her as if a tempest, the force of it slowly pushing her towards the maw of the beast lying in wait inside the pit. What glimpses she’s caught of it over the sting of the winds are of a convoluted creature, the very essence of agony twisted into a wretched physical form. Tendrils take a hold of her ankles as she attempts to step back, knocking her from her feet with full intent to drag her to their master. The paladin scrambles, her nails struggling to find purchase over the stone as her legs come closer and closer still to the blackened pit. Fleetingly, she thinks, that if Hal’lasan were to make her mistake, it would be  _ her _ voice leading the priestess to her demise in this vile hole,  _ her _ fault for failing to uphold her promise.

“I… refuse… to let that happen!”

Light flashes from her figure brilliantly in the form of a cocoon, expanding outwards to consume the encroaching darkness in her essence. It burns away the searching reaches of the nether while a final, deafening keen echoes from the dimming chamber, the explosion of magic stealing the life back from the clusters living along the wall. Daneli breathes heavily, finding her shield and her feet, and flees the chamber with an unrivaled swiftness. Behind herself she can still sense a presence, her Light not enough to cleanse the unholy grounds, only halt their advance while she buys time. Repeatedly, the walls threaten to alter her course, or collapse in on her entirely, her quick wit the only thing keeping her from being forcefully imprisoned alongside the shell of the forgotten child.

By some miracle, the path which spits her back into the jungle puts her directly in the path of a very perplexed Hal’lasan, the halfling nearly bowling them both over in her escape.

“Daneli? Where the hell did you go? I’ve been looking everywhere for-”

“No time, Halla! Bring it down!”

“What?”

“Bring that cave down!”

And though she’s startled, the priestess does as she’s told for once, channeling orbs of light to cycle around her figure swiftly. She catches only a glimpse of the foul, wolf-like aura racing towards them before she thrusts her hands forward, arcane missiles erupting over the cave entrance violently. At once, Daneli is upon her, shielding them both from the resulting shrapnel with perhaps more force than is strictly needed. It’s almost as if she’d been anticipating something more than just rocks to batter her defenses.

Likewise, the priestess’s hands find her shortly after they straighten, the heavy frown she’s carried for hours now making its reappearance, “Goddess, you’re chilled to the bone. What  _ was _ that?”

“I don’t know, Halla. I don’t know. How long was I gone?”

“Nearly a day. I’ve been looking for you all night.”

“Light. It seemed like no more than a single hour.”

“Dani, what happened down there?”

She’s never heard the paladin so ruffled, so devoid of her usual assuredness.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s get away from this place.”

The paladin turns heel after ensuring that the priestess is safe, quietly contemplative of the ordeal she’s just been through. And Hal’lasan is left to peer after her flickering aura, swallowing what she knows to be fruitless concern, better voiced when Daneli can actually  _ look _ at her. 

For now, she must wait. And though she hates waiting - for Daneli, her patience will move mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ *Jevamo, Epolmono, Konona – Respect, Tenacity, Compassion.. The three virtues of the Light, something every draenei should know. Borrowed from the lovely people at https://us.battle.net/forums/en/wow/topic/7199640839 ]


	14. "I'll take the floor." "Don't be ridiculous."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hal'lasan and Daneli are caught out in a storm, and their room arrangement is both less ideal than expected, and the best thing that could have possibly happened. Or: "you're annoying" is actually code for "hold me closer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Sorry for the wait guys! I hope this brightens up your day, as it did mine. Thank you for the kudos and the comments, as always! I already have the next part in the works. ]

“What do you mean there’s only one room?”

“Take it or leave it lady, there’s plenty of other suck- erm, paying customers that would be happy to take your place.”

Hal’lasan refuses to honor Daneli’s lofted brow with a proper response, electing instead to fix her with as flat a look as she can manage.

“Personally, I don’t mind sleeping in the mud-”

“-We’ll take it.” 

Ignoring both Daneli’s snickering and the storm of complaints brewing behind them, the priestess ascends the neighboring staircase in prideful silence, mindful of the hooves following after her. If she leaves a trail of water in her wake for the innkeeper to deal with later, well, she just can’t be bothered to care.

“You know, we’re fortunate to have found this place.”

“I want to know what you’re on right now, because the only reason we’re stopping  _ here _ is because of necessity. I almost want to go back outside.”

The paladin clicks her tongue disapprovingly, but Hal’lasan feels that it’s distinctly amused at her own expense, as it often is. Daneli must be making fun of her again, the twit.

“If you’re already this cold and wet, what’s the problem with staying outside?”

“Unlike you, I  _ don’t _ enjoy sleeping on the cold, wet ground.”

“You only mind it because you’re spoiled.”

“Spoi-  _ please,  _ who’s doing the spoiling? You?”

And Daneli pounces on the chance without a second thought, an over dramatic sigh parting her lips as she leans heavily over Hal’lasan’s shoulder, batting her lashes for flourish.

“Daaaani, I’m hungry. Daaaani, I’m cold. Daaani, I’m-  _ ooof.  _ Okay, okay, I yield. Pfft.”

“I do  _ not _ sound like that.”

“Alright, princess.”

“Daneli,” she groans, coming to a stop over the threshold of their home for the night. It’s a simple arrangement, really, bearing little more than a worn down bed and a wardrobe. A single bed, Hal’lasan is reminded, much to her dismay. This is just not her night.

She swallows, gesturing inside, “.....Shall we?”

The last thing that she wants is to lay without a bath after the day’s trek, but there is no chance in this hell or the next that she’ll subject herself to sitting nude in the same room as Daneli. Not now, not ever. But she’d said that about the swimming incident, hadn’t she?

“Yes, how do you….well,” the paladin punctures the silence clumsily, following a brief wave of hands towards the bed. Halla would never admit it aloud, but it’s a silent comfort to know that her stalwart companion isn’t  _ completely _ unaffected by their ordeal. 

“I’ll take the floor,” she settles breezily, and even if the priestess wanted to protest, Daneli is out of reach within the minute, hustling towards the rack provided in the far corner. With the sound of clinking armor echoing off the walls, Halla wanders into the opposite corner, fiddling with her dripping blouse. It’s almost comical to her, how the day’s events had turned out.

“Don’t look,” is the playful quip that comes out of Daneli’s side, the halfling hiding a private smile as the sound of damp cloth thuds over the floorboards. For her part, she’s content that she may as well be dressed in Halla’s eyes. Or lack thereof. 

Halla, however, is not as contented.

“Oh, ha ha. If  _ you  _ look, I’ll tip you over the windowsill myself. I swear on Elune that I will.” 

Not that she would necessarily know if Daneli stole a peek, seeing as she’s busy exercising the full extent of her willpower to not steal one of her own. The best she can considering her disability, anyways.

“Do I seem like that type of person to you?” Daneli chastises mildly, her hooves clicking over the floorboards as she shifts her weight, patient, “check the wardrobe, Halla. Might be something useful in there.”

Something that would keep her from soaking through the sheets, as it turns out. Two slips amongst a pile of men’s clothing, clearly cut for human women, but it would do well enough for the midget-sized priestess and her shapely protector.

“Here, catch.”

“Much obliged.”

“Right,” she swallows, trusting in Daneli’s word to keep her dignity in tact. If she can trust the paladin with her life, she owes her that much. Which is why, when Daneli moves to transfer the spare bedding to the ground, she sighs, catching her wrist gently. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. The bed is big enough to share…. especially seeing as you’re almost as much of a midget as I am.”

She blinks, “Oh… are you certain? We can make a wall with the pillows if you’d like-”

“Don’t make me take it back.”

With a lagging release of her companion’s wrist, Hal’lasan pads over to what she’s deemed her side of the bed, stroking the damp ribbon in her hair idly. Daneli seems to sense her hesitation if the lingering look she’s given means anything, the halfling seeming contemplative as she tucks herself in with her back to the priestess.

“Halla.”

“Mmm?”

“You can take it off, you know. You haven’t let your face breathe in weeks.”

“Yes, I know,” she acknowledges quietly, a lingering worry keeping her from claiming her place beside Daneli.

“Afraid that I’ll turn over and gawk at you all night? You know I’d never look without permission.”

“Why do you always say things like that?”

The dip in the bed signals Hal’lasan’s presence, and it’s Daneli’s turn to swallow, quietly flustered, “Really. I’ve sworn myself to you and you still don’t believe me. You are the densest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Hurtful,” she retorts, the warmth of her back coming to rest against the halfling’s invitingly, “I’ve long since come to accept that sometimes, it can’t be helped. Much as you like to remind me.”

“Then?”

Her fingers dance over the carefully woven strips of cloth, loosening them in the silence that follows until all that’s left is the widest strip. 

“If I asked you to keep from touching me until our journey ends, would you listen?”

Daneli shifts, her brows furrowing in quiet displeasure though her pride would keep her from ever voicing it, “Then I would have to oblige. Is that what you want, Halla?”

“No - I just… my face, is all. I’m…”

_ I’m afraid that I might hurt you. _

Yet, for all of her concern, her verbal fumbling is cut off by a singular chuckle. Hal’lasan recoils, stung, until the halfling interjects to clarify and spare her feelings, “And I will never touch you without your permission. I’m almost hurt that you would think so lowly of me. I do apologize for laughing, but… well, you can be cute. Sometimes.”

“And you’re annoying, all the time,” she grumbles, continuing, “it’s been weeks… months, not years since we’ve met. I would sooner cover my bases than leave them open for some mishap later.” 

Then again, Daneli has never given her reason to doubt, and tonight is no exception.

“Yet,” she reminds, so sure of herself that the priestess can’t find it in herself to refute the statement, “we have not known each other for years, yet. Though I do have a request, for when…  _ if _ the day comes that you would do me the honor.”

“Of touching me? You consider that a high honor?”

“Very. Though if you say it like that, I might take it the wrong way.”

“Be serious,” she swats, flushed, “your request?”

_ I am being very serious. _

“The story of what happened to you. Of Kamila, and how this came to be. That is my only request.”

She presses her lips into a thin line, hearing her heart thud in her ears for a few precious moments before she releases the breath she’s holding with a prolonged sigh. Of all the things Daneli could have requested, it had to be  _ that. _ It’s so like her that Hal’lasan can’t find it in herself to be upset by it.

“Very well. You have my word.”

“Really? I didn’t expect that to work.”

“Absolutely ridiculous. I don’t know how you’ve survived this long.”

“Through sheer force of will and luck, it would seem.”

“That would explain why you’re so stubborn,” she goads, turning over with tentative fingers brushing over the woman’s back, “is this alright? There’s… a draft.”

“Right,” the halfling smiles, leaning back into the warmth of her hand, “use me as you like.”

“Don’t say it like that,” she groans, allowing her arm to encircle Daneli’s waist as the two settle comfortably. The paladin doesn’t know what’s possessed Hal’lasan to be so openly affectionate with her, but with the priestess's forehead resting over the curve of her back, she finds that she doesn’t much care. 

“Goodnight,  _ ekliein _ .”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you, one day.”

“Hmmph. I’ll let that one slide, for now.”

“How gracious of you.”

Content, Hal’lasan thinks that this is all she’s ever wanted, and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ekliein - my desire, used as a term of endearment
> 
> Did you guys think that Daneli would end up being the little spoon? c;   
> Side note, if anyone has any prompt requests, I would be more than happy to indulge! They're just so much fun to write!


	15. “That joke was about as dry as your love life.” “Who says that it’s dry at all?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which playful teasing turns into something more, something greater. Or: it's too gay for me to handle, Naaru take the wheel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ I'M SCREAMING I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. But this is not the end, my friends c; ]

“That joke was about as dry as your love life.”

“Who says that it’s dry at all? For all you know, I could have a lovely girl back home.”

“Then you mean to tell me that you  _ haven’t _ been flirting with me all this time?”

And it’s Daneli’s turn to be flabbergasted for once, prompting a very,  _ very _ self-satisfied smirk to blossom across Hal’lasan’s lips, no remorse to be seen over what is to her - a joke of her own. Never mind the silent meltdown her companion is having beside her, the flush-faced paladin in disbelief that she hadn’t been quite as subtle as she’d thought, or rather more so that  _ Hal’lasan _ isn’t quite as dense as she’d thought. Is it a blight or a blessing, she wonders? Daneli really can’t decide, not when Halla is smirking so roguishly in her direction.

“What? Of course not, I would never-”

“Then you think that I’m ugly?” she sniffs, being completely melodramatic, but the way Daneli is dancing between her fingers, how can anyone expect her not to seize the moment?

“Halla that’s not what I said at all-”

“Oh, no, I see the way it is!”

“- I actually-”

“You just pity me, is all.”

“- really think that you’re beautiful!”

“Oh,” is the dumbstruck response the paladin receives, all traces of mirth draining from the elven woman’s face to be replaced with a heated flush of her own. Meanwhile, Daneli has finally reasoned that Hal’lasan was joking all along, and is equally mortified by her abrupt confession. This is not the way she’d planned to tell her, not here at the crossing between the Vale and Duskwood. Not ever, actually.

“I see,” she adds belatedly, more sly than she has any business being given the circumstances, “so you  _ were _ flirting with me.”

“Halla,” she groans, sighing out what she’s sure is the biggest breath she’s ever taken in her life before lofting a brow at the smug woman. Gathering her wits about her, she implores her thundering heart to quiet in her ears so as to compose the most flippant response that she’s able. Daneli was always a terrible liar, but this she can manage.

“And if I was?”

“That’s-”

“You’re going to stand there and tell me that you didn’t like it?”

“Where is this coming from?” the poor priestess splutters, completely taken aback by a side of Daneli that she’s never seen before.

“That’s not a no,” she reminds, her tone sweetening towards the end as if she’s just found something, very, very interesting.

“No, I-”

“Then you’ve been flirting with me too?”

Hal’lasan puffs her chest bravely, try as her stomach might to make her succumb to the warmth fluttering there, “And if I was? What’s your clever response to that?”

“Good.”

“Good? Goddess, I don’t understand you at all!”

This draws a chuckle from her, the halfling very much enjoying the flustered state she 

seems to have thrown her companion into. She only feels a bit guilty, just a smidgen really.

“Didn’t you tell me the night that I made my vow that I might as well have asked for your hand?”

“I was  _ joking _ .”

She shrugs easily, the tips of her gloved fingers brushing against the bareness of Hal’lasan’s, “I have no intention of leaving you, unless you send me away. And I sincerely hope it never comes to that.”

_ Because I might not be able to follow my duty, if that’s the case. _

“Speak plainly,” she swallows, not quite able to believe her ears, not until all veiled words and intentions are stripped away to reveal the true essence of what Daneli is trying to tell her. She won’t jump, not first, not in this.

_ It’s now or never. _

“For some time now, I’ve… Light. There’s no other way to say this. Halla, I’m in love with you.”

And the pause that follows only serves to let her doubt fester, her eyes peering over the priestess’s softly parted lips as if they might yield her an answer - any answer for Light’s sake. It’s only when Halla’s fingers brush back against her own, intertwining the two to bring them to the smooth swell of her cheek that she finds her breath returned to her, watching with reverence the way Hal’lasan leans into her palm as if to drink in her warmth.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said.”

“I don’t understand, I-”

“If you’re well and truly stuck with me, in  _ love _ with me, then there is no reason I have to fear this.”

Daneli feels as if in a dream, half tempted to pinch herself to rid herself of this surreal world before she’s past the point of no return. Yet nothing is more real to her than Hal’lasan’s fluttering breath over the planes of her face, and the way her thumb seems to have found itself pressing over the fullness of her lips. With the other cradling her jaw, their noses brushing against each other, Daneli manages to make out a soft, breathy plea that makes her lose all sense of control and propriety.

There is no turning back now. But in truth, that option had been lost to them the day that they’d met. This is only the beginning.

 

 

 


	16. "Your mother would skewer me." "She would love you.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hal'lasan and Daneli trade stories on the path through Duskwood. Or: the oldies are pretty cool, and miracles do happen. Sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Forgive my mistakes please, it's 4 in the morning. Inspiration does strike at the oddest hour. A special thanks to Razorfist for the request! I hope you enjoyed this little snippet into Daneli's childhood <3 ]

With her promise to Daneli fulfilled, and her story told, Hal’lasan feels the burden of Kamila’s fate abating over her shoulders. She’s nothing if not a woman of her word, and frankly, it’s a relief. 

But as curiosity would have it, she has questions of her own. Daneli is an increasingly odd specimen, in her opinion.

“So now that you know mine, what’s yours?”

“Besides meeting you? Because I’m fairly certain that you will be the death of me.”

“Second best.”

“The day that I decided to devote my life to the Light, after watching my father do something I didn’t think possible.”

This piques the elven woman’s interest, ear twitching attentively over the soft patter of hooves below them, “Go on.”

“Patience,” she chides, clicking her tongue in her partner’s direction playfully. Yet, as with all things, she succumbs to Hal’lasan’s wims, musing over the memory of that day, so long ago.

_ “Mamae? What’s happening?” _

_ “Stay still and quiet, surfal. Close your eyes and shut your ears. You remember the secret way to the storehouse?” _

_ Left without a choice, she’d nodded, a girl no more than ten hidden behind a pile of firewood no higher than her mother’s knees. A mother who would soon leave her side to bar the door with her inside, leaving her frightened and alone. Fearing for the fate of her parents, she’d scrambled to the closest window against her mother’s wishes to peer into the eyes of the beast - a drove of hulking green creatures which she’d never seen before, armored and outfitted against the likes of a retired shield and his leather-working wife. Daneli hadn’t known it at the time, but their quaint settlement would be the first of many to be targeted by Hordish forces encroaching on the night elves’ ancestral home.  _

_ “Surrender now, knife ear, and Mulog might save you for the slaver’s pens.” _

_ Even in her confusion, Daneli would not soon forget the way her mother had inflated to her full height, her glimmering daggers held fast as she’d laughed, pointing defiantly into the face of danger.  _

_ “Leave now, and the Goddess may show you mercy when you show me your backs. You will not take us as easily as you think, orc.” _

_ “Heh. Kill them all!” _

_ Before the last syllable had left the brute’s lungs, her father had stepped between his self-branded warrioress and their enemies, knowing her capable, but worrying over their odds still, “Stay behind me, eklien. You should never have come back outside.” _

_ “And leave you to these savages? I always told you it would be me before you, dalah’surfal.” _

_ Then she would grunt, kicking an encroaching assailant from her partner’s side before ducking, her mountain of a husband swinging right over her head to drum an orc attempting to flank her straight in his own with his broad shield. _

“Wait - your mother left you by yourself knowing that you would most likely die if they failed?”

“What can I say? She was irrevocably in love with my father. Have more faith, would you?”

“Right, right. You're still here, so the end result doesn't concern me. What then?”

_ Yet, as the battle wore on, her mother’s strength would begin to wane against so many, the proud woman out of practice after years pursuing her craft, and tending a quieter lifestyle than years before. Even her father’s protection is not enough to keep her from being a danger to herself, darting in only to forget that she’s not as agile as before, not as swift in execution. And that’s how, in a moment of terror, Daneli had climbed through the window to her mother’s aid, her father with his back turned, too distracted by his own fight to see the fate about to befall his wife. Foolishly, Daneli had thrown her weight into the man brandishing an axe above her mother’s head, her heart drumming in her ears nearly as loudly as her mother’s cry had been upon seeing her there, a fragile little thing amongst such horror. _

_ It’s enough to send her father into a frenzy, radiant light blinding them both as her mother bares her fangs and cradles her away from their soon-to-be displaced attacker. She doesn’t see what happens next, not truly, not until it’s over and her mother is panting over her, a sickly warmth staining her simply-woven clothes. _

“I can’t believe you were that reckless.”

“Are you really surprised?”

“No, actually. Not at all, with a mother like that.”

“She would be pleased to hear you say that,” she smirks, nudging the priestess, who had conveniently nudged closer throughout her tale under the pretense of being able to hear better that way. Not that there’s much room to wiggle closer on their shared saddle to begin with. _ “ _ Shh _ , _ I’m getting to the good part.”

_ Her father was at their side in an instant, disheveled but nowhere near as badly as her mother, who seemed to grow weaker by the moment with her fight done, and her baby safe. Daneli could nary get a word out before he was cradling them both, the bleeding woman between them coughing out a speckled laugh as her hands come to reach over each of their respective cheeks. _

_ “Kene’thil surfas. You know this, yes?” _

_ “Do not talk like this.” _

_ “I hear her calling for me. It is my time, and I am ready.” _

_ All the while, Daneli’s brow would furrow, her gaze flickering between her serene mother and her father’s distraught features with an unsettled confusion settled over her, “Mamae I don’t understand. Where are you going?” _

_ “Somewhere far, surfal.” _

_ “Do not leave us. Not like this.” _

_ And her father would receive nothing but a weak smile, her mother’s hand falling slack back onto her stomach, the last of her strength gone. _

A quiet frown had grown over Hal’lasan’s shrouded features by this point, the woman interrupting Daneli mid-sentence.

“That … took a turn.”

_ “ _ Oh, no. She lived. Quite well, I would say.”

“You made it sound like she died right in his arms.”

_ “ _ Technically, she did. My father wouldn’t tell me this until years later, when I was a formal paladin in training. He begged the Naaru to take him instead, and his call was answered. He’s a strong man, but he’ll never wield a sword again. I think he’s grateful for it.”

Halla shifts, mulling the story over, “They’re alright then? Why didn’t we stop by their place when we were in Darkshore?”

She receives a lofted brow in return, “Would you have been interested in seeing my parents, before all this? You’d have moaned at me the entire time.”

“I might be rude at you, but I’d sooner bite my tongue than snap at your  _ parents. _ Your mother would skewer me.”

“She would love you,” she intones fondly, strongly tempted to wrap her arm around the elven woman considering her proximity, but she refrains for now, wary of their unspoken boundaries.

“She says, just to butter me up for later. I’m onto you,” she squints unnecessarily, knowing the action will carry through in her tone, as it always does.

“What ever that means,” she snorts softly shaking her head, “Then it’s settled. I’ll take you to them, one day.”

“I see that you’ve forgotten our destination already.”

“I haven’t forgotten. But I don’t spend my nights worrying over what will happen once we reach it anymore.”

And she has no response to that other than to hide a private smile, peering forward in the direction of the darkened forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ekliein - my desire  
> Surfal - beloved one  
> Dalah'surfal - my beloved one  
> Kene'thil surfas - I love you


	17. “Demons? Is that a joke?” “We have to help them.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pair bicker, and it ends in fire. Or: this is not what either of them signed up for. Send help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Enjoy, sweetlings <3 short, but there's more to come. ]

“Demons? Is that a joke?”

“I don’t know why anyone would post something like this as a joke, Halla.”

Hal’lasan crosses her arms, lofting a brow in her partner’s direction skeptically.  _ Demons?  _ Here? What a load of hogwash.

“What do you propose we do, then? Prance around the countryside chasing a prank put out by some kids with nothing better to do?”

“Investigate what very well might be a serious cry for help. What exactly do you suggest? Run to Stormwind with our tails between our legs?”

Predictably, she bristles at the paladin’s insinuation, her lofted brow returning to its customary scowl.

“If you’re calling me a coward, say it outright. Even if there  _ were _ demons attacking Westfall, what can we do? You saw what happened in Felwood. I. Can’t. Fight. Them. I’d be more like a child swinging a stick than anything resembling a sorceress.”

“And you think the thought hasn’t occurred to me? I’m your sworn shield. I’ll keep you safe while we see what’s going on. Nobody said anything about charging in guns blazing.”

“Knowing you, that’s exactly what would happen.”

“I’m not stupid, Hal’lasan.”

“And I never said you were, Daneli. Only overzealous.”

“For  _ you _ !”

“I know,” she sighs lightly, recognizing the stung rise of her partner’s voice over something she herself deems so trivial. “Let me restock while we’re here. Then we can go.”

“That’s unlike you.”

“What?”

“To actually listen, for once.”

She rolls her eyes, refusing to escalate further by returning Daneli’s quip with a biting response of her own. To the apothecary it is, with her sulking partner following two steps behind, for the first time in a while. She imagines that if the circumstances were any different, the paladin would have left her to her own devices for a short while, at least until she’s cleared her head. Not that Halla would have begrudged her for it, she’s more than capable of watching her own back, thank you very much. 

It’s not until hours later on horseback that she backpedals, nudging back against her uncharacteristically silent companion. It’s not like she’s unsettled by the sense that she’s alone with her thoughts after basking in the paladin’s light for so long or anything. Goddess, she’s gotten soft.

“Are you still upset?”

“No.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“No worse than you are at comforting people.”

“To be fair,” she hums, settling against Daneli’s front as a way to cut off her stubborn escape, “the only one I have to practice on is you. And you have the nastiest habit of never letting me get to you. So you see, I can’t help it.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“No.” 

“I don’t understand you,” the paladin sighs, relenting to the priestess’s sweetening tones by resting her chin over her bared shoulder.

“Aah, there we go. Not so bad, is it?”

“Shut it,” she murmurs, venturing so far as to brush her lips over the irksome woman’s neck. She’s more than a bit pleased when Hal’lasan jumps, nudging her face away with her forehead, but not before Daneli has the chance to hear her breath hitch.

“None of that.”

“None of what?”

“I think I liked you better when you were sulking.”

“Right,” she snickers.

The next half-day passes in a similar manner, the priestess resisting Daneli’s playful advances all while pretending that she doesn’t enjoy them rather poorly. It’s only when they reach the border between Duskwood and Westfall that their bickering quiets, giving way to the acrid breeze and the barren lands beyond it.

“... I understand why all the ruffians come out of Westfall. I can’t even see the place and it’s already dreadful.”

“It looks worse than it smells.”

Much worse than usual in actuality, but seeing as neither had ever set foot in this part of the country, how could they know? Even this late into the evening, when Daneli would expect there to be some silhouettes indicating life, she finds none. None but the lone cloud brewing in the sky some distance from them, seeming more like miasma than any ordinary storm cloud she’s ever encountered. Once they’re beyond the soft slopes of the mountains obstructing them, their horse snorting beneath them anxiously, she sees  _ why _ .

“The town is burning. There’s-”

“Felfire. I know. She knows,” the priestess pats the side of their mare’s neck so as to soothe her, squinting in earnest towards the wavering image of their destination, already affected by their proximity. “You were right. Goddess, but why are they  _ here _ ?”

“We have to help them.”

“We  _ can’t _ .”

“Don’t you hear them? We have to do  _ something _ ,” she grunts, swinging her leg over the saddle with care not to jostle Hal’lasan. Her boots land on the hard dirt beneath them with a dull thud, the priestess’s hand shooting out to catch Daneli’s shoulder before she’s aware of what she’s doing.

“Of course I hear them! You want to join them? Because I’ll not sit idly by while you run off to your death! How many fighters do you think they have? You might be the only one, Dani.”

“All the more reason. Take the horse and circle town. I’ll need you to follow my voice if it’s too late to do anything. Do you trust me?”

And although she sincerely wants to fight Daneli on the matter, the thought of leaving innocents to burn doesn’t sit well with her either. She only wishes that this wasn’t one of her biggest limitations, that it wasn’t the one thing keeping her from watching the paladin’s back. Daneli is capable, yes, but not invincible.

“Go. Send anyone you find my way. And don’t do anything stupid, you hear me?”

“Never,” she assures, brandishing her shield in hand with unwavering faith, “let’s get moving, then. Time is of the essence.”

So the long night began, two against the weeping hole in the sky. Come daybreak, only one would left standing.


	18. “Will they come back?" "I... don't know."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the dawn comes, and with it, a new choice emerges. Or: Hal'lasan is terrible with kids, and Daneli is excited to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ So much love from you guys! I'm amazed!! <3 Enjoy, sweetlings. ]

“The water, please.”

With nervous haste, the child they’d collected scampers towards the woman’s pack, rummaging through it until finding Halla’s waterskin, its contents soon finding themselves poured over the drying rag covering Daneli’s forehead. It’s a sub-par solution for her fever, with the lack of herbs to work with, but Hal’lasan is satisfied by the steady rise and fall of her partner’s chest. With a weary sigh, she sits back on her heels to regard her unexpected assistant directly. She imagines that aside from being thin, he is also soot-stained.

“You did good. Your name?”

“It’s… Emeric,” he manages, working up the courage to peer in the direction of the softly-breathing paladin, “is she going to be okay?”

“It’ll take more than some fire and stone to return her to the Goddess, stubborn as she is. Aside from the bruising and burns, I think all she needs is rest. All we can do now is wait.”

And oh, how she hates the waiting game. Especially without the company of Daneli’s own special brand of snark. Nevertheless, that train of thought is silenced by a timid interruption, the way Emeric is fidgeting with his ragged shirt bringing a twitch to her ear.

“Will they come back? The monsters.”

For once, she doesn’t know what to say. It’s a rare occasion that she’s even in the vicinity of a child, never mind actually speaking to one. And after feeling the despair of the ruins they’d left behind, she doesn’t even know where to begin. Granted, she’s a better liar than Daneli, but after being around her faultless integrity for so long, her confidence in her own skill is shaken.

“I don’t know,” she begins cautiously, “but should they find us, they’ll have to go through me before getting to you. And I am much stronger than I look. Stronger than her, even.”

It’s mostly a jest, seeing as their skill sets are entirely different, but she finds that it has the desired effect. Now, instead of worrying over the prone paladin, Emeric peers over her skeptically instead.

“Why didn’t you help her, then?”

“I… was making sure that she’d be able to get out safely. I didn’t expect there to be anyone left. Aah..,” she fumbles, cursing both her lack of sleep and the lapse in tact it’d wrought. A lapse not overlooked by the scarred boy, who’s full attention has returned to the night before, and all of its horrors. Her heart, Goddess she hadn’t thought it possible, pangs with genuine sorrow over his slumped posture, and the way he hugs his knees beside her. With her lips set to present her apology, she finds that she has no time before he speaks again, nearly drowning her in guilt with the question to come.

“I’m the only one left, aren’t I?”

Now, her lips press into a thin line, hand flexing and unflexing on her lap until she extends it to his quivering shoulders gingerly. She doesn’t expect him to collapse into her, his helpless sobs filling the silence within their makeshift shelter while she tries in vain to calm his hiccuping the only way she knows. He’s only a young boy, how could she expect anything different?

“Why is this happening?”

“There are evil things in this world, Emeric. Evil things that don’t care if they ruin everything they touch. Do you want to know how to stop them?”

She’s no good with children, this she knows, yet her heart warms when his crying quiets and the boy’s tearful gaze bores over her shrouded features. In return, her hands shifts from his back to the swell of his cheeks, her fingertips gently wiping the moisture from them, “You must become strong. Strong enough to carry the memory of everyone you loved and will love. But until then, you have to trust in people who can.”

Gesturing towards the halfling to their right, she continues, “There’s nothing to be done about what’s already happened. All we can do is stop it from happening to someone else. Do you understand?”

The subsequent “yes, ma’am,” is enough to bring a slight twitch to her lips before she sends the boy off to rest, taking her place as sentry over the entrance to their tent. She takes comfort in knowing that no demon will be able to stealth past her, not without muddying her vision at least. She only wishes that she were as strong against this foe as she’d led Emeric to believe. She pities the boy, really, but knows better than anyone the pain of loss, and the dangers of its trappings. He will not struggle as she did, not while she still draws breath.

Hal’lasan doesn’t know when she falls asleep. The dawn finds their camp as an unarmored hand finds her shoulder, the newly risen paladin adjacent to her nearly receiving a blast of light to her face as a result of startling her priestess.

“Woah! Easy, easy. Just me. You shouldn’t be out here like this.”

“And you shouldn’t have let a house fall on top of you. How are your wounds? Where’s Emeric?”

She sits up, mildly disoriented as her magic reaches out sluggishly, caught between which body to check on first. Thankfully, Daneli simplifies the matter for her.

“The boy? He’s still sleeping. Are you alright?”

“About as alright as someone can be during a demonic invasion. Now, your injuries?”

The halfling clicks her tongue, batting Hal’lasan’s hands away gently as she moves to examine the healing burns coating her hands and the area around her neck, “Never mind that, they’re fine. We should move.”

“And where exactly would you have us go?”

“North, to Stormwind. I doubt the city is under siege without word of it reaching here.”

“Because we’ve run into anyone capable of telling us if that were the case,” she huffs, brushing herself off before rolling to her feet, feeling her back crack with a blissful moment of satisfaction. “We should return to Duskwood and take a safer path.”

“Without knowing if Duskwood is being attacked by now as well? Either way we go, there is danger. Don’t you trust me?”

“That’s not the point, the point is -”

She halts mid-tirade to a soft tug at the edge of her blouse, Daneli receiving one as well. While her reaction is a mild one, the paladin seems to completely forget their bickering and offer the child a wide grin, ruffling a hand through his hair.

“Good morning, little one. Did we wake you?”

She receives a prompt head shake in return, content to chat with him a little while longer before returning to the matter at hand. In her defense, it’s been so long since she’s seen a child that she’d almost forgotten they exist, and the reminder is a welcome one despite the circumstances surrounding it. Emeric is not as grim as the night before, Daneli's light infectious to even him. He too, welcomes the distraction, this much she can tell. Goddess damn it if Hal'lasan finds the sound of the two decisively adorable, twice over if Daneli realizes this, and abuses it to turn her will.

“Halla. The longer we wait, the more dangerous this becomes for him. We must go.”

It takes little more than what she knows to be an idolizing look from Emeric in Daneli’s direction to change her mind, and she gestures behind herself with a sigh.

“Let’s ready the horse, then. What was that place called on the map, the watch station? Sentinel Hill, wasn’t it?”

Yet when they arrive to the crumbling fortress to find it under seige, the pair is faced with a choice. To stay with boy, or continue on their way, entrusting his safety to the couriers tasked with escorting civilians to temporary fixings?

Once more, both fight indecision, little time left to make the choice over the urgent shouting of Captain Danuvin and his people. And Emeric, poor Emeric, feels his life held in the hands of two fools, each a fool for the other. Yet, he does not feel afraid, for Hal’lasan’s promise lingers fresh in the back of his mind. And the pair is so radiant to him, that he believes it.

It will take more than fire and stone to steal him from this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, dear readers? What do you think? To stay, or to go? c;


	19. “Hal? Is that from Daneli?” “Pack your things, Emeric."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two are separated, for longer than either had thought. Or: Daneli is selfish, and you can only imagine the argument that ensued trying to get Halla on that cart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Somehow this turned into a story-esque thing, rather than the one-shots I'd intended it to be. I'm not complaining. Thank you for the support, as always, guys <3 I have so many ideas buzzing around in my head! ]

_ How could she do this? I can’t believe she’s done this. _

That’s the mantra at the forefront of Hal’lasan’s mind for the next couple of days as she, Emeric, and a band of refugees close in on Stormwind’s gates. The great city of stone is no worse for wear as far as she can tell, the lack of anything but relief permeating the souls around her indicating nothing otherwise. But she remains sullen still, wishing not to be here, but rather at that cursed woman’s back even knowing that she’d be more of a liability than an asset. Well, she’s a grown woman. If she has gone so far without that comfort, then she will do so again. Her, lovesick?  _ Homesick _ , even? Banish the thought.

Banish the thought indeed, when her charge tugs on her grimy blouse for the umpteenth time that day, and she can feel his little fingers shake the air as he points to the great gates. He must take comfort in them, she thinks. Perhaps his parents had told him tales of it, before their untimely demise. She says as much.

The response she receives is as much sad as it is incredulous, the boy too enthralled in the novelty of it all to be consumed by sorrow just this moment. 

“Pa actually hated the King. Said he was the reason Ma and my sisters were hungry every winter. I don’t get it, though.”

“Yes… we’ll see soon enough, though, won’t we? This king of yours.”

“I hope he’s nice.”

She almost snorts, containing herself at the last second as they’re herded into the Cathedral District. Halla has to tread carefully here, the wall of bodies threatening to induce a headache when she least wants it, especially considering the way the chaos seems hell bent on separating them. The presence of soothing magics and energies here are, at least, some reprieve. Blowing some hair from her face with no small amount of exasperation, she bends down at the first moment they’re allowed, clasping her hand over a startled Emeric’s shoulders.

“Listen carefully. I may need your help at times, not often but I need you to listen to me when I do. Daneli would kill me if I lost you. And… I would miss your questions as well. Do you understand?”

This seems to brighten the boy’s mood if that were at all possible, the sorceress receiving an enthusiastic nod in return. In this, Emeric seems to sense her urgency and reserve his inquiries for later. Or maybe, he’s just excited to be given his second task. Either way, she welcomes it.

“Right. Now let’s get in that line over there. I am  _ starving _ , aren’t you?”

“Mhm!”

⧪

All the while, Daneli thinks that if she can manage to concentrate over her fatigue, she might be able to envision a hot meal, in a warm bed, somewhere nice and tropical. Preferably with a pretty elven woman by her side. But none of that matters here, in the dry heat of Westfall where every sorry excuse for a breeze does nothing to cool her, and instead blows gusts of dirt into her mouth. Captain Danuvin had done what he could to remedy her armor situation, but with the shortage being as it is, she’d only managed to get get hands on a dented suit, a ghost of her former dressings.

But being as she is, such a thing will not stop her from carrying out her duty, especially with the knowledge… or rather, the trust that her beloved and the boy they’d saved are safely within the human king’s grasp by now. Such is her rallying cry to the squadron she’d been tasked with, the halfling knowing more than anything that if the demons don’t succeed, their faltering morale will take them to the void first.

“Perk up Weaver, Deni, Gariel, Bialon. They have not taken us yet and they will not do so today. You have families, yes? Do not allow them become widows, widowers, or orphans over something like the heat. I have seen miracles in my life, and the fact that you all live means that the Light will smile upon us this day, and for the rest of this blasted war if we can do our part and hold fast. Come,” she grunts, patting their shoulders gruffly as she passes the line, rousing the weary soldiers even though she would love nothing more than to allow them a moment’s rest, “let’s kick some demon ass!”

The resounding ‘oo-rah!’ is enough to fill her spirit like a cup, confidence curving the corner of her lips until she notices Bialon lagging behind the rest, still disheartened where the rest of her squad has gone on to partake in the pre-battle chatter. A frown sobers her features as subtly as she pulls him aside, her armored hand resting over his worn pauldron.

“Bialon. I need you with us. What ails you, friend?”

“Captain… my wife, she…”

“This morning? What of the child?”

“They… they couldn’t do anything for either of them. The damned demons destroyed the supply carts that would have saved her life, the life of my… my  _ son _ ! I didn’t even get to hold him before his body went cold!”

And she feels a pang in her chest, not only for Bialon and his lost son, but for fear of the cart they’d sent North, brimming with refugees. Easy pickings, as far as bandits or demons are concerned. But there’s no time for that, not here, not now.

“We will give her a proper farewell as soon as this wave is dealt with. Until then, I need you to help us. You want them to suffer as you do? The ones who did this to your family? Take up your blade and make them  _ bleed _ . It will not bring them back, but it will save many others. Are you with me, Bialon?”

His steadying breath and the emboldened nod he gives her once he’s gathered himself are what make her pause worth it, the woman gathering her warriors and looking outwards into the field. It’s a bloody mess, truly. But Daneli’s people will not be swayed today, not by this.  She gives the order, and they descend.

And it’s a long while before any of them can give word of their dead, or their living, long enough that Hal’lasan has half the mind to march back down to Westfall and assess the situation herself. But one thing has her anchored, and it’s the only thing that keeps her going when the letter arrives, finally in her hands after wrestling past other families desperate for news. It’s blood-speckled and filthy, but it is hers.

“Hal? Is that from Daneli?”

“Pack your things, Emeric. We’re meeting her tonight.”

The letter, she crumples, stuffing it hastily into her pocket.

“ _ Halla, _

_ I don’t have a lot of time, I’m going to be called back soon. I have to speak to you soon, in person. Meet me at the border between Westfall and Elwynn on the full moon. Hopefully this reaches you by then. I hope you can forgive me.  _

_ -Dani” _

What in the name of the Goddess does  _ that _ mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ I'M SORRY IN ADVANCE BB'S ]


	20. "Don't go." "I have to."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daneli must make a difficult choice, and Hal'lasan must live with its implications. Or: Daneli needs to keep them safe from the Legion, but Hal'lasan is not ready to let her go. Not yet.

Seeing the paladin again, in the flesh, so close that the scent of soot tickles her nose, is almost too much for her. Almost enough to make her forget the child she’s brought in tow, but not quite, though she doesn’t know if it’s out of anger or relief. To Daneli, her expression is a reserved one, her lips caught between an odd mixture of a smile and a grimace, yet nonetheless withholding any sort of affection she might have to offer. Her indecision threatens to cast a shadow over their reunion if not for the boy, who seems to take the words straight from her lips in his quiet confusion. 

“... You’re leaving?”

Daneli rubs the back of her neck in response. Although she should’ve expected resistance from the both of them, she’d been hoping that perhaps, it wouldn’t be so painful.

“So, that’s it, then? You want to run off and play soldier.”

“Halla. You know it’s not that simple.”

“It seems simple enough to me,” the sorceress retorts curtly, all sense of warmth vanished from sight. Indeed, it seems clear as day to her. Just another person she’s grown to love, leaving her, like they always do.

Still, Emeric glances between the two of them, his confusion escalating with the each of their respective expressions. Though their time together has been short, even he recognizes the lack of warmth between them, and it makes his stomach turn in a decisively sick way. In some ways, he finds the coolness of his elven guardian reminiscent of something he’d seen all too often growing up, always the calm before the storm. It’s enough to prompt him to fidget with his tunic and face his shoes before the inevitable yelling begins.

“Is this my fault? I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

And Daneli thinks that it’s all too close to the heartbroken wailing of the spirit which she had encountered in that cursed cave for comfort, even if this time it’s more of a murmur than a cry. Perhaps that’s what compels her to abandon their bickering and kneel, wrapping her arms around the trembling boy while Hal’lasan sighs at them both, resting a hand over each of their heads haplessly. Unaware of the frightful memories crossing the minds of both her partner and charge, the sorceress wonders how they’ve come to reach this point, when just a week ago they’d felt not as one, but as three separate entities. Once again, where she is lacking, Daneli is bright enough to cover her failings.

“Of course not, little one. Come, come, chin up. I will not be gone for long, if I have a choice in it.”

“If  _ I _ have a choice in it, you won’t be going at all.”

“Halla,” the halfling grunts with a distinct flavor of warning, nodding subtly to the calming boy in her arms as if to say,  _ later _ . For her part, the sorceress sniffs, turning her head derisively when she’s certain that the boy isn’t looking, too engrossed in asking questions. In some ways, she’s grateful that Emeric has given her an excuse to delay the inevitable.

“Are you going to fight the monsters?”

“Mmhm. Tell you what, I will even bring you something back to show all your friends.”

“Can’t we go with you?” he’d glance in Hal’lasan’s direction more knowingly than a boy so young has any business doing, though the sorceress herself doesn’t know it until he adds, “I think Hal would miss you.”

Of course she would, he’d think, young but not so young that he hadn’t noticed their longing looks, and the way the sorceress had sighed more with each passing day after leaving Westfall. It would have to be the only explanation for their arguing, if not for him, right?

Daneli’s smile is strained in response to his question. Blissfully, Hal’lasan cuts her response short, mumbling something or the other about leaving the slight chill of Elwynn behind in favor of some place more warm. For some time, the paladin regales Emeric with tales enough to last him her absence, making the hour long trip back to the city feel like no more than half. Some Hal’lasan has heard, and others she has not, though in either case she tries to listen as inconspicuously as possible from her spot by the window once they’ve reached their destination. It’s nothing spacious, or luxurious by any means, but the small room is hers by virtue of the small stash of coin she and Daneli had kept over their travels.

It’s some time before Emeric begins to feel drowsy, and even longer before Daneli has a chance to accost her now that the boy lies reassured and soundly sleeping. Yet, Hal’lasan reads her intent before she can say a word, fleeing from their room to the darkness just outside the inn before the tempest of feelings within her can manifest and give her away when all she wants to be is collected. All the stalling in the world is not enough to delay the paladin forever, and all Daneli can do is sigh after back and rub a hand over her features wearily before pursuing her once again. With their door locked, she reaches the sorceress in time to catch her trying to pace her breathing, sharp sparks of magic fizzing from the arms she’d wound around herself tightly.  

The sight makes her chest tighten painfully, Daneli pleading with Hal’lasan as she adds insult to injury, jerking away from her soft attempts to caress her hands soothingly. 

“Don’t touch me.”

“Let me explain--”

“You  _ promised _ me!” she snarls in return, stung as the sparks burn all the brighter around her, incensed. Her willpower can only stretch so far, and without the worry of frightening Emeric, she doesn’t have it in her to contain herself. Yet, the sparks only last for as long as it takes Daneli to recoil before they die down to nothing, the sorceress hanging her head dejectedly. 

“You promised to protect me! To stay with me. With us. How can you do that half a world away? Does your word mean nothing?”

“Please-”

“I  _ trusted  _ you-”

“Halla-,” she draws in a ragged breath, kneeling before the woman to try and make her see sense, her gaze drawn to the ground even as she tries again to take Hal’lasan’s hands. “Everything I do, I do for you. If the Legion comes here, even I will not be enough to keep them from you and the boy. I must do this. I.. I am not leaving you. Not for as long as you think. Please. Understand.”

At this, the sorceress slides down the wall, her knees touching the halfling’s as her arms wrap around her sloped shoulders tightly. Daneli embraces her in return, burying her nose into the croon of Hal’lasan’s neck to inhale her scent, the imprint of which she would come to hold onto for the days to come. 

“You need to stop running away. From me, and from every obstacle that comes across us. I know that you are stronger than this. You must be.”

“I don’t know if I can be,” the sorceress retorts weakly, savoring the paladin’s warmth for as long as she can have it with no further pretense.

“This… this isn’t healthy, Halla. I didn’t see it before, I… I thought perhaps you were only jealous. But this is…”

“Different.”

She’d finish the paladin’s sentence, finding that it was said with such concern that she can’t help but laugh, loud and brazen into the night. The way it tapers off is almost shrill, her scars prickling beneath her makeshift mask. But she’s known it since the time they’d started growing close, hadn’t she? The imbalance of power between them. The way Daneli could curl her around her finger, if she weren’t so kind, so good to her. And it seems that it’s all come back to her now, with the prospect of her beloved wandering somewhere that she should not - cannot, follow.

“I’m - sorry,” she begins belatedly, forcing her voice to cease its trembling as her hands shake softly on Daneli’s frame, “I’ve lost… so many people. I couldn’t, I  _ can’t _ . Not you too. I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know how to stop this feeling inside me.”

And she feels more broken than she has in years, since Kamila and the others before her. The fear of being alone is so fresh, so raw in her mind that all she can feel is the hurt it brings.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she’d repeat, sounding exhausted as she slumps over Daneli’s shoulder. “‘M sorry… ‘m sorry..”

And the paladin couldn’t have guessed that this was what she was getting herself into at the beginning of everything, that the woman she would come to love would be so fragmented and vulnerable behind her witty front. Yet, in the face of it, all she can do is hold her, and resolve to stay until the time that Hal’lasan is ready to let her go, and accept that she will always come back. After all, she’d sworn an oath, hadn’t she?

The day has come that her beloved has revealed herself in her entirety, with such earnestness, that Daneli would be a fool not to love her more for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Yeah, I didn't know she had so many issues either. They write themselves, I swear!! But, the only way to go is up, right? :D ]


	21. “You’re just jealous that he has a new favorite.” "I love you both!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emeric reveals a rather curious gift, and the trio get a break from solemn affairs. Or: it's wholesome, and short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Who knew that college was hard? Enjoy! Any and all feedback is appreciated! ]

The next few days are nothing but peaceful, even amidst a city preparing for war. As it’d turned out, time away from the dust and heat of Westfall had nurtured a rather curious gift within their young charge. Hal’lasan hadn’t realized it was him, not at first. When objects in their shared room had begun falling over without prompting, only a sliver of skittish magic left behind, she’d thought that perhaps Daneli was messing with her. Goddess knows the woman could be a saint one moment, and a devil the next. But when they’re out to market and a basket of sweetberries splatters all over her hair, she draws the line. 

“Knock it off,” she starts irately, “if you’re trying to scare me, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that, anyways. Tame, even for you.”

And Daneli, now equally as confused as Halla is aggravated, merely regards the sorceress with a lofted brow before setting a slice of peeled orange into Emeric’s waiting hands. The boy hides a grin behind his morsel, watching the exchange with mirth.

“Stop what? Your clumsiness? That challenge is a bit much, even for this paladin. Honestly…,” she accepts a handkerchief from the profusely apologetic merchant to her left, placating the man with a friendly smile before setting to work on helping Halla mop the juice off her head. For all her efforts, she’s rewarded with a huff from her lover, and a few quiet giggles from Emeric, which Hal’lasan regards playfully.

“Oh, I’m onto you two. Watch yourselves…”

“Light, what are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you’ve been knocking things over while I’m trying to read.”

“You say that like you can actually read.”

“....I’ll have you know that I  _ can _ . See! Even this little scamp knows. No hiding the truth from us, Dani.”

“I’m telling you, it’s not me,” she’d grunt, and dispose of the used handkerchief. Though, Emeric’s second giggle had captured her attention. She flashes a lighthearted smirk in his direction while moving to ruffle his hair, noting that it’s gotten rather unruly lately.

“What about this ‘little scamp,’ then? Your silence is making me suspicious, little one!”

“I didn’t do nothin’!” he exclaims with a rather devious grin, ducking under her hand to hide behind Halla’s proverbial skirts.

“It’s ‘anything,’ not nothing,” she corrects, pressing a finger to the pouting boy’s forehead with a mild smile of her own. And Daneli watches them both with such a fondness that it’s almost palpable, indeed even visible to Hal’lasan’s through the warm turning of her aura. It makes her heart flutter, the sight of their steadfast bond a comfort to her: a sliver of silver in a sea of gold. It’s so pure that it almost hurts. Still, with their resident trickster evading them at every turn, it’s enough for even Hal’lasan to become suspicious. 

“If you’re honest, Dani will give you another orange,” she proposes, resting a hand on her hip with a brow lofted in his direction.

“I- what?”

“Shhh.”

It’s enough for the boy to turn traitor on himself, gathering his hands in front of himself sheepishly as both his guardians regard him with expectant smiles.

“Y’looked sad. I-I don’t like seein’ you sad. It makes Dani sad too!”

“Oh, sweet boy,” the paladin croons, unable to hold back on hugging him to her hip despite his half-hearted protests. And as moved as Halla is by the sentiment, something else catches her attention, prompting a grin to settle on her lips.

“Emeric,” she starts, once he stops struggling and she’s able to catch his full attention, “how would you like to do something even more exciting with your magic?”

As if to make her offer more enticing, she summons an orb of light within her palm, weaving it through the air until it comes to a stop atop his nose. Emeric makes a sound of awe, and at his gentle touch the orb dissipates into nothing more than glimmering air. 

“Show off.”

“You’re just jealous that he has a new favorite.”

“I love you both!” the boy exclaims once more, with such honesty that Halla wonders what she’s done to deserve them both. No sooner had the thought finished forming when Emeric’s hands grab at them both, his spindly arms trying their best to hold them together even if his head only reaches Daneli’s hip, and her stomach respectively. Amusedly, Halla thinks that even when he grows, he’ll likely be shorter than them - even with consideration to her midget-like size. By kaldorei standards, anyways.

It’s a comforting vision, the hope that something good will outlast this war. The only shame, she thinks, in something so beautiful is that one day she might have to watch him return to the earth as well. But those thoughts are best left to darker days. For now, she is content with this.


	22. "I've never actually seen you heal anyone." "I would probably die."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hal'lasan reveals an obvious truth, and Daneli takes advantage of it. Or: she does not like it, but she will endure. She will learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ You've all been really lovely! Thank you for your patience! We press on from Stormwind, to more adventure! And peril?! ]

Hal’lasan finishes the arduous process of winding a strip of bandage over Emeric’s hand, chiding him to be more careful before placing a mischievous kiss upon it for good measure. Good measure, she would say if asked, but really, she merely enjoys how the boy squirms, and stammers at her as he runs back off to the group of hooligans he calls friends. Daneli watches the exchange amusedly from her place against the wall, arms crossed.

“You know… I’ve never actually seen you heal anyone. Isn’t that sort of in your job description?”

“How optimistic of you. Few are worthy of it. Especially from me.”

“What happened to help without prejudice?” her brows furrow slightly, before lofting at her companion disapprovingly.

“I  _ do _ wonder what happened to it? Where did it run off to? Hello? Help? Prejudice?” the elven woman calls with her hands cupped over her lips flippantly, before regarding the halfling with a customary snicker. Daneli is tempted to swat the back of her head, but settles with a flick to Halla’s forehead, and a hapless shrug to the passerbys now giving them an odd look. 

“Really, Halla.”

Hal’lasan tilts her head at the halfling with interest, her spectral vision skimming over the woman’s aura searchingly. She seems to consider something, deeply, before inquiring, “Are you hurt?”

“Do my feelings count?”  
She snorts, “Dani. Really.”

“Would it kill you to let me know something about yourself?”

“Don’t you know plenty? In fact… I’m certain you know more about me than I do about you.”

“It’s about equal. Don’t change the subject.”

“You’re getting better at this,” Halla remarks with a smirk, propping her elbows atop the shaded patio table, “it would probably  _ actually  _ kill me, if I did. The healing, I mean.”

Daneli’s brows dip, peering quizzically at her companion, “Why?”

Halla shrugs, “Lots of magic related details that I don’t care to bore you with.”

“You’re not  _ really _ a priestess, are you? If you are, I’m going to have to seriously question the practices in Darnassus.”

“Pffft. You’re welcome to do so. Physically. I will enjoy watching the sentinels chase you around for harassing priestesses. Deeply.”

“I can’t believe you,” she sighs, profusely, and slides a hand over her brow, “ listen, even within an hour of meeting you, I knew something was... different. I didn’t think much of it then, but now that we’re, well,” she gestures to the Cathedral, “it’s obvious, feeling  the difference between your magic and theirs.”

“Spend a lot of time feeling other priestess’s magic, Dani? No wonder I can never find you at bedtime.”

“Halla,” she groans, and the elven woman relents with another breezy laugh.

“I’m only amazed that it took you this long. Then again… you  _ are _ the densest paladin I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“Wha- you’re the one who--!” the paladin seems to fluster under the wiggling of her companion’s brows, as if Hal’lasan knows exactly what she’s implying, and she intends to rebuke it if Daneli is bold enough to breathe life into her thoughts. 

“Come,” Halla rises from her seat instead, casting a cursory scan in Emeric’s direction before striding towards a more secluded part of the district. Daneli follows if only out of intrigue, though part of her wonders how many people have been lured here under less pleasant pretenses. 

“Hurry up and take my hand, would you?”

“You didn’t have to take me all the way out here if you just wanted to be affectionate. How shy of you. And here you were giving me so much grief a few seconds ago,” the halfling teases, poking Halla with her elbow. It’s uncharacteristic of the shorter to be so forward, she thinks. That is, when they’re not bickering over something or another.

“Pah. No that’s - that’s something  _ you  _ would do. C’mon. Give it,” she wiggles her fingers, and taps her foot impatiently. Daneli doesn’t bother to bite back a laugh as she does, but to her great dismay, it would soon become a rather regrettable action. The greenery warps around her all at once with the melody of Hal’lasan’s snickering in the foreground, darkening, and ultimately disappearing entirely from sight. Unnervingly, all she feels in place of her companion’s hand is some sort of ethereal tether, one cast in brilliant amethyst sparks that seem like stars in the darkness around them. And when she emerges, the light is blinding and her feet are… cold? Startlingly cold, and bright, and everything touching her almost hurts before the feeling numbs.

_ What in the name of the Naaru is this?  _

“Easy,” Hal’lasan sing-songs from beside her, corporeal and seeming wholly satisfied by her confusion. If Daneli didn’t know any better, she would say that she’d felt her companion give her hand a solitary squeeze before withdrawing both behind her back.

Gone is the lush greenery of Elwynn, now in its place an abundance of snow, and a structure that seems to emerge right out of the ground. Its azure luminesence alone is enough to cast light on the crater that Hal’lasan seems to have teleported them to, wide rungs of energy-propelled platforms levitating above them. It is the only thing that seems to breathe life into the otherwise desolate place, the chill of everlasting winter greying all other fauna except the crystals jutting from the walls around them. The way light pulses in this place almost reminds her of what lies hidden behind Hal’lasan’s shroud, as had the odd awareness of  _ being  _ teleported that she’d experienced before. Usually it is… smoother. 

“Welcome to Coldarra,” she sighs, woefully aware of how inadequate her footwear is for this weather. But changing into something appropriate would have given away the surprise, no? Just hearing the silence that is Daneli’s speechlessness is enough for her, though a part of her - the part that holds hope that she might one day see again, wishes that she could drink in her features as she processes this forbidden place.

“I… thought there would be more dragons,” the halfling starts, squinting at the platforms above them suspiciously. If she’d known that this was their destination, she would have prepared weapons accordingly. 

“They’re all gone. Too many bad memories here, I assume. I don’t blame them. Do you know what that is?” she points to a line of luminescence near a dip in the crater, inhaling deeply when she feels it calling to her, beckoning her forward. Another time, she might have indulged. But today, she has a guest.

“Ley lines. Halla, isn’t this… dangerous?”

“For a priestess, maybe,” she drawls, bursting with satisfaction at dropping the charade in favor of something she only practices out of the public eye these days. She is not so filled with shame, these days, but it is something she prefers to keep to herself still, “But not for a sorceress. A leywalker, to be specific. Although… I do regret how that came to be. If I had been patient… well. I don’t want to linger on it.”

Daneli remembers the tale. Though that does not stop her from perking a brow at the sorceress skeptically, “You could have just told me. You know it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hal’lasan turns away from her - probably to pout in peace, the brat. “I can take you anywhere you could ever want to be. I can’t quite open portals like I used to, but this is a superior improvement. I need not know my destination… only my needs, and I will be there.”

“How about the Broken Isles?”

“We talked about this,” she purses her lips, displeased by the direction her companion’s thoughts had wandered. She had imagined something more… climactic. 

“ _You_ talked about this.”  
“Are you sure?” she sighs, crossing her arms as she faces Daneli again, and fidgets with the hem of her sleeve, “this might not be exactly what you want.”

“How can you know what I want when you haven’t even asked?”

_ She is going to be the literal death of me. I can’t believe I’m considering this. _

Hal’lasan’s frown deepens as Daneli steps into her space, prodding her with questions that she’s eluded over the past few weeks. She has been waiting patiently, it seems, to accost her once time has passed, and she has had time to reflect on her misgivings. Her many, many misgivings.

“What about our… the boy?”

“Didn’t he accidentally call you ‘mom’ the other day?” Daneli snickers, her mood lightening somewhat with the mention of Emeric. It is never her intention to upset Halla… but she is coming to see the necessity of it. Wouldn’t want to spoil her. Too much.

“He hasn’t been able to look me in the eye since. Er… more so than usual. How cute. It reminds me of you.”

“ _ Ha ha _ . Don’t you have friends in the city, Hal?”

“As if I would. How troublesome. I have my hands full with you anyway.”

“Seeing how rude you are to me, I’m not surprised. And here I thought you were reformed.”

“No way. But I have no intent in keeping you here any longer if your soul calls for something more. That’s not…,” she’d purse her lips then, ponderously, and perhaps a bit darker in the cheeks than usual, “we’ve known each other too long for things to be that simple. I’m not… that… selfish? How troublesome…  _ you’re  _ troublesome. Goddess”

“I see,” the halfling remarks slyly, understanding the sorceress’s intent, though she extends her silence a few seconds longer than necessary to peer at the spreading warmth of her cheeks adoringly. “You’re feeling better now?”

Halla huffs, “I’m not a tempermental child. This,” she gestures between them hastily, “is new to me, alright? I’m doing my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” she hums, warmth enveloping her aura as she leans forward, and plants a gentle kiss to her companion’s forehead. “The Isles,  _ ekliein _ ?”

“You never did tell me what that means. And we still have to arrange something for Emeric. I’m drawing the line at exposing him to what lies there.”

“I can think of something.”

“Hmph. You’re breaking the news to him.”

“You make it sound like we’re abandoning him.”

“No,” she retorts pleasantly, weaving light between her fingers idly as she does when she’s anticipating something amusing, “but I do so enjoy when he gives you the puppy-eyed look he always does when we have business elsewhere. I can sense your despair from a mile away.”

Halla cackles, and Daneli flicks her forehead with a grumble about selfishness, and morals, and Naaru knows what else.

“I hate you. You’re insufferable.”

“And I, you. I’ll be keeping tally of how many times I have to cover your ass.”

“Something tells me that  _ I’ll  _ be the one carrying you around like some sort of princess. Naaru knows you’re more of a witch than anything so noble.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re on.”

Hal'lasan snatches her hand, and they're off.


End file.
